Heroes: The Phoenix Chronicles V1 Changes
by SongOfStars
Summary: Continuing season 4 I have a few written out Peter is concentrating on how to keep his best friend sane since their escape from Parkman's power. Can he save the family Sylar doesn't know he has? Can he protect Sylar from himself? Rated M for violence
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimers:** I don't own anything...yet. :D Also, the character of "Jessica Havok" (which will be seen in later episodes/seasons) is not mine either but belongs to a friend of mine.

**AN:** Picking up exactly where the final episode of Heroes left off, this is the continuation of season 4 (which IMO lacked a lot of...everything...so I'm adding a bit more) & will go on to season 5 et al (I have a few written out.) Do NOT read this UNLESS you have seen at least "I Am Become Death" & the final episode "Brave New World" as it will contain spoilers for both since I'm attempting to keep this as canon as possible, yes, including whatever went on in the fourth season. This focuses mostly on the story arcs left unfinished in "IABD" (which is technically in season 7 what with the time jump & all), picking up on the ending of "BNW" in which it seems the Sylar/Peter relationship has finally amounted to the level of friendship we see in "IABD" (There's a lot of baby Noah coming up since, after snooping around, it seems a lot of people want more about him.)

Not promising anything, but I will try to post at least once a week, probably every Thursday night (Canada Pacific time), treating every "chapter" as an episode. This is the first time I try writing something like this so bare with me please.

Two things before starting:

The Do's & Don'ts:

I will try to write out/tie up loose ends. (Peter scar for e.g.) I will eventually write up my own "loose ends" once I pick through the mess Heroes left us; however, I will NOT leave yalls hanging. Unlike the Heroes writers, I will eventually have whatever explained. If there's something either from Heroes or my own stuff that has been left unsaid, just simply ask & I'll either write it out...or will already have it written out, just not time to post yet.

Unless I'm picking up an episode story that's a continuation from sometime past, I won't be doing the "previously on Heroes" thing all the time. I'll be using that only to refresh one's memory of...whatever.

I won't be changing Peter's gf every second episode. I like Emma & I'm sticking with her for a while.

Finally:

As for Sylar/Peter, I'll be leaving it open like Kirk/Spock or Sirius/Remus. If you want them as simply BFF's, fine. If you see a slashy affair going on between them behind the scenes, suit yourself. I'll be ok with however you view it. I won't be "coming right out" & saying it in writing; hopefully, covering everyone's needs. I'm not going to label this as a S/P slash story. Neither am I going to say that this is not a S/P slash. (This is the only loose end I won't tie up. More fun this way. lol)

**Summary:** Continuing season 4 (I have a few written out) Peter is concentrating on how to keep his best friend sane since their escape from Parkman's power. Can he save the family Sylar doesn't know he has? Can he protect Sylar from himself? (Rated M for violence)

* * *

_**Previously on Heroes:**_

_Sylar: How long has it been, really?_

_Peter: Half a day...maybe._

_Sylar: Feels like we were in there for years._

_Eli: Sorry to break up the love fest._

_Emma: Thousands of people will die._

_Noah Bennet: No comment._

_Claire: Actually I do have something to say. ... You want to know what really happened here tonight? Keep the cameras on me._

_Reporter: What is she doing?_

_Noah Bennet: Breaking my heart._

_Sylar: It felt good. It felt right._

_Peter: What the hell does she think she's doing? She's going to change everything!_

_Sylar: That's right. It's a brave new world._

**Heroes: Changes**

**Episode 1: In The Open**

"Well, that's that," Peter muttered as the reporters clustered around Claire. "First it's the amazing healing girl. We'll be next."

"You're not liking this much, are you Peter?" asked Sylar, mildly rhetoric.

"Not much I can do about it now," Peter shrugged, turning on his heel to walk away.

"But we don't have to hide anymore," Sylar started once he caught up to him & fell in step beside him.

"Gabe, what do you think people will do when they find out about you?" Peter asked. "Everyone knows the name Gabriel Sylar Gray but none of them understood the full extent of what you do." After a hurt look from Sylar, Peter rephrased himself. "Did. Now you'll really be hunted."

"If it gets that bad, perhaps I could change my name," Sylar shrugged. "I can already change my face." He shifted for a moment to look just like Peter.

"Stop that," Peter ordered, waiting for Sylar to shift back before going on. "This isn't funny. I don't think Claire realized the full extent of what she did to us."

"Well, Claire doesn't like me anyway," said Sylar. "Maybe she can consider this as payback."

"I mean all of us," Peter stated.

"I know that," Sylar huffed. "Excuse me for trying to lighten the mood!" As the two of them walked down the street in silence, Sylar occasionally glanced sideways, reliving the past. He used to stalk these streets. Kill relentlessly. The Kirby Plaza was around somewhere. "It's rather strange seeing others around again. Used to be just the two of us out here."

"I know," Peter mused. "I'm heading home half-wondering why or if it'll still be there even though I know I was yesterday."

"Twelve years, even in la la land, is a rather long time."

Peter smiled a moment. "Especially when stuck with you."

"Me?" Sylar acted surprised. "I think it's the other way around. You're quite the drama queen at times."

Peter scoffed incredulously. "Excuse me?"

"Look, I have the need to check on my own apartment around here," Sylar changed the subject. "Unlike you, it has been a while since I was back."

"Alright, I'll see you tomorrow," Peter watched Sylar lift off & fly away. He continued walking, not sure whether to expose his powers like what Claire just did. Once he finally did reach home, he took a few moments to glance around. Try as he might, it was hard to shake off twelve years that never even existed. Tossing his coat to one side, Peter flung himself across the full length of the lounge & turned on the TV.

The image of Claire throwing herself from the Ferris Wheel was just finishing probably for the umpteenth time. Peter groaned. How could his own niece do this?

"Are there others like you?" one reporter had asked.

"Oh great!" Peter grumbled even more.

"Yes, almost everyone who was here has some sort of ability," Claire answered.

"Kill me now," Peter closed his eyes. Though he didn't want to, he listened to the whole report anyway. Claire had gone on to describe a few abilities but never mentioned anyone's name, not even Sylar. At least she had some sense. Still it was only a matter of time now. He switched off the TV & picked up the phone. He went into the text system to send a message.

Medic101: Hey Emma. How are you? I hope you're at work tomorrow. Had a very weird day. Need to talk to you.

After sending it, Peter snapped the phone shut & tossed it aside. He went to sleep right on the couch. It had been a very long day.

* * *

"Claire," Noah Bennet finally managed to get a hand on his daughter & pulled her towards the car. "Get in. We should leave."

"I thought..." Claire glanced around. "Wasn't Peter here?"

"Yes, but he's with Sylar."

Claire lowered herself into the front seat & closed her eyes. "Sylar is never going to leave me alone, is he?"

"He will, if I have anything to do with it," Noah put the car in drive & pulled away. "Someday, I'll figure that man out. I'm just surprised no one died here today."

"What do you mean?"

After a long moment in hesitation, Noah finally answered. "Sylar is the one who saved Emma."

"You're right, I'm surprised she is still alive."

"Then he tied Eric Doyle up with a wire of lights & left him there. Alive."

"That is strange."

"Oh, it gets better," Noah went on. "Eric said that Sylar kind of laughed at him after plugging in the wires & then just left with Peter."

"As in my uncle? That same Peter?

Noah nodded before adding, "Sylar's up to something. I can feel it. He always has some sick twisted reason of his own for doing things."

"It's Uncle Peter I'm wondering about," Claire mused. "Those two are always trying to kill each other & since Peter can only use one power at a time now, there's a good chance he may not be able to access his Regen."

"I'm putting you on the first plane back to Arlington," Noah started.

"Dad," Claire tried to protest but was ignored.

"I don't want you around either of those guys until I find out what's going on," Noah declared in a voice that settled the matter.

"Fine," Claire muttered, lying against the back of her seat as much as possible. Every time she got close to Sylar, it seemed that the man would escape her once more. It seemed that it was always her father who would get to go after him & eventually bring the beast down.

"Don't go planning anything," Noah suddenly went on as if he had read her mind. "Besides, don't you want to see Gretchen again? I'm sure that girl's got a lot of questions after your little stunt tonight."

"I'm sure she does," Claire pulled out her phone. "Yep. I already have several texts from her demanding details. From a few other friends to." She was trying to simplify it but her face said otherwise.

"Just how many messages do you have on there?" Noah asked, half-teasing.

Claire laid the phone in her lap. "Not many. Just enough to keep me busy for, oh I don't know, the whole flight."

"Doesn't sound like many at all," Noah laughed at her.

"Hmm, now I fully understand the meaning of that song 'Telephone' by Lady Gaga," Claire added.

"Well you did ask for this in a way," Noah sounded a little more harsh than he intended. "Claire, I won't be able to protect you as well anymore."

"I'll be fine Dad," Claire tried to reassure him. So long as Sylar stayed off her case, at least.

"I hope so."

* * *

Emma fumbled with the keys to unlock her apartment door. Though the blood had dried, her fingers on one hand still stung a little at being used. She finally managed to get it open & stepped inside. She leaned back against the door, heaving a long sigh of relief. After a moment to relax, Emma stepped into the kitchen to wash off her hands properly for the first time. She pressed a paper towel between her fingers as gently as possible before moving into the washroom to get some bandages.

Once every finger had been neatly wrapped, Emma collapsed onto her couch & laid her head back over the top to stare at the ceiling. It was finally sinking in that the dream had been averted. It was almost a disaster. She never wanted to play a cello, or anything else, ever again. Was she really that dangerous? With her ability, she could summon anyone to her like a siren. With that same ability, she could knock someone out. Could it kill? Judging by the rip in the wall that she had done one day, yes, it probably could. It was a wonder that man, Eric, was still alive. She felt like a monster.

After several long minutes, she sat forward. Glancing at her own cell phone, she noticed it had a message waiting. It was a text from Peter. Emma took a long time to think before answering back. She picked up a pen & used one end to tap out a reply so her fingers wouldn't have to.

ColoredSilence: I'll stop in to see you whether I go for work or not. I don't think I should be working for a few days. Need to talk to you too. By the way, you must tell me more about your friend who helped me & do thank him if I don't get a chance any time soon.

Emma laid the phone aside & headed for the bedroom. She checked her cat's bowl & added some more food before setting her vibrating alarm. Her cat sleepily glared up at her from the center of her pillow, whiskers pushed forward as if frowning in a 'you-are-NOT-moving me' defiance. Emma smiled into his fur as she encircled her arms about it while maneuvering into bed. A few hours sleep was exactly what she needed right now.

The vibes went off making her start. Emma glanced around & saw her cat, Skipper, meowing at her. Glancing at the window, she could see a few rays of sun peeking in. Was it morning already? She lay back for a good fifteen or so minutes. Skipper jumped up beside her & started rubbing against her face, meowing constantly. She saw his jaws moving. She saw soft rays of light wafting around his head. She knew the cat was hungry.

Emma finally swung out of bed & in a few moments, Skipper's bowl was full. She left him to eat in peace, heading for the kitchen for her own breakfast. Emma took her time, taking over an hour to finish breakfast. She stalled again by sitting on the couch reading yesterday's newspaper. It wasn't until almost noon that she finally decided to go out. Emma was afraid to leave her apartment, afraid to lose control. Afraid of herself. If her power could kill, she didn't want it. Emma forced herself out the door & headed for work. She needed Peter. Now!

* * *

Peter shook his head & lowered himself into the nearest chair. It was a good thing the morning was slow for a change. He felt out of touch with everything around him. "Come on, Pete! You were doing this two days ago." Twelve years ago resounded in his head. Dreamland though it was, that was a very long time out of work. He had forgotten everything & was currently stuck with Samuel's earth-shaking power so he couldn't even use his 'magic' on any patients.

Peter got up & headed outside. He walked around Mercy Heights Hospital twice, trying to clear his head & fill it with the information he knew was in there. Somewhere. He changed directions & soon found himself in front of the garage that housed a few ambulances. Stepping inside, he saw three parked vans ready & waiting to be used. He grabbed the keys off the hook for the nearest one & got inside. "Oh wow!" Peter moaned to himself aloud. "I need to remember this before an emergency." He glanced at the dashboard. The gear shift. The various buttons. "Ok! I can do this." He turned the vehicle on. He wasn't planning on going anywhere, only wanting to roll forward a few inches. He put the thing in gear & then wondered why the garage door seemed to be getting away from him, not coming towards him.

Crunch!

Whoops!

"That's why," Peter let out a breath as he closed his eyes. He rested his forehead on the steering wheel.

Honk.

"Yes?" Peter yelped, sitting sharply up straight. Then he buried his face in one hand. After a moment, he tried once more to move the vehicle, this time inching it forward back into its original spot.

Screeeeeeeeeech!

Peter's eyes opened wide. He decided that this was far enough & shut the truck off. He quickly got out & ran to the back. The bumper was all but destroyed & a large piece of metal was sticking straight out from it. The same piece seemed to be responsible for the large gash in the wall behind him. "Ahh!" Peter put both hands on his head as if he was about to pull his hair out. "No. No! No!" He stared at the bumper for a moment, then glanced back at the gash in the wall & let out another yelp. Sylar was staring right back at him through the crack.

"Having troubles?" Sylar teased.

"I can't do this," Peter said. "I've forgotten everything. Gabe, it's been twelve years!"

"Only in a matter of speaking," Sylar shrugged.

"Gabriel!" Peter huffed. "I just totaled an ambulance while it was still parked! Tell me now, how does one do that?"

"Totaled it while it was parked?" Sylar repeated. "Well, in that case, I'm not showing you what I did."

"Oh boy," Peter berated. "Now what did you do?"

"Something wild but I don't want it around you," Sylar said. "You'll scratch its paint by looking at it."

"What?" Peter asked. "Hang on. Let me get out there."

"Only if you're careful."

"Yeah, yeah," Peter muttered tiredly. He replaced the keys & exited through the side door. Walking around to the back, he stopped barely ten paces short in front of Sylar & stared at the thing behind him.

It was a large motorbike, black as night, yet the simplest ray of light was magnified a hundred-fold off its shiny paint. Buell was written in black against a dark red background over the ridge behind its handlebars. It had a large light that looked down onto the road like one angry eye.

"Like it?" Sylar asked.

"Yes but," Peter gaped at it a moment longer. "What on Earth possessed you to get that?"

Sylar shrugged. "I figured it'll help me keep my mind sane. I seem to have control of this ability at last. I do not want to let it control me again."

"Good idea," Peter nodded, sidling up a bit closer. Next moment he was flat against the wall from Sylar's power.

"Nuh uh uh!" Sylar glared at him. "I WAS going to let you ride it, but after totaling a parked ambulance, you're not getting anywhere near it. _Capite_?"

"Perfectly," Peter choked. "Ah, come on, Gabe! Lemme go!" After a short glare passed between them, Peter felt himself being moved a few paces away & dropped. "Thanks," he wheezed.

"No problem," Sylar placed one hand over his prized bike. "So what are you going to do about that?" He nodded to the crack in the wall.

"I have no idea," Peter said, worry filling his voice. "If I can't figure it out before something comes up, I'm doomed."

"Good thing there wasn't a patient in there," Sylar peered through the crack once more. "You might have killed them."

"Sylar!" Peter whined.

"What?" Sylar looked up at him, a lopsided grin twitching at one corner of his lips.

"You're not helping," Peter grumbled.

"Oh, it can't be that hard to remember," Sylar said. "Let's get in there. Maybe I can help."

"Is that a good idea?"

"What do you mean?"

"Help. Meaning, you're going to use that ability, right?"

"'That' is my original ability, Peter," Sylar said. "What do you think I'm going to do? Cut the ambulance's brain out?"

Peter glared at him. Sylar glared right back, a grin spreading wider & wider across his mouth. Peter finally closed his eyes, giving up. Sylar had been in an awfully chipper mood ever since their escape from Matt Parkman's power. By the time he had opened his eyes again, Sylar had already brushed past, entered the garage & was currently prying at the busted van. "Hey!" Peter jerked his head to the hooks on the wall. "Keys will work better."

Sylar merely held his hands up & flashed him another wicked smile. Peter half-rolled his eyes as he tossed the keys over. "Thanks," Sylar caught them. "Where's that manual at?" He asked once he was inside.

"Should be in the glove department," Peter said. "Gabriel, can I borrow your power for a minute?"

"Is that one wise?" Sylar asked, wondering if two of them having that same power at once would be good.

"I want to try...erm...bending that bumper...ya know…back into shape," Peter stammered helplessly.

"No, you just want to try not getting caught at destroying someone's property."

"Shut up & give me your hand!" Peter held up his own & waited.

"Be careful," Sylar clapped his hand into his friend's. "Oh & stay away from Buell while you have this one. You might bust her light or something."

"Not like you don't have money to replace it," Peter walked away to the back once more. "You with that Midas touch of yours."

"It's the principle of the matter!" Sylar's voice echoed through the van towards Peter.

"Whatever," Peter muttered under breath as he squatted down to inspect the bumper more closely. He began bending it one way, twisting it another, trying to get the thing straight again. "Ouch!"

"Now what?" Sylar opened the back doors to watch Peter.

"Darn metal!" Peter winced, sucking on a bloody finger.

"Oh here!" Sylar held out his hand again. Peter graciously took it for a moment & soon felt the Regen flood through him.

"Thanks."

"You're hopeless," Sylar sat up on the gurney & started looking through the manual. Peter got down to the bumper's level once more, ignoring him. Hearing something beyond his friend's mutterings, Sylar glanced up for a moment & noticed Emma had entered. She was now standing almost behind Peter yet he didn't seem to realize it. Sylar smiled even more widely than before. No time like the present to piss Peter Petrelli off. He made sure Emma saw his lips. "Hey Peter. Your" then he purred out "lady love" before going back to a normal voice. "Is here."

Emma's face turned bright red but Peter's reaction was even better. He tried standing up, forgetting that he was currently under one of the open doors & rammed his head against the base. He fell flat on his face, groaning before rolling over & out of the way. As the Regen (Thank God he had mimicked that one!) kicked in, he stood up quickly, rubbing the back of his head. This made his already half-static hair even more askew. He locked eyes with Emma who hid her amusement in one hand then rounded on his friend still perched on the gurney. "I swear to God if you could die right now, Gray!" Sylar merely raised one shoulder in a half-shrug & focused once more on the manual, trying desperately not to laugh. "I hate you," Peter slammed the doors closed.

"I don't care," Sylar called out to him.

One door re-opened. "Believe me, you will."

"Ooo, threats from Peter Petrelli. What WILL happen to me next?"

Peter stared at him. "What is with you, these days?"

Sylar snapped the manual closed. "I think I'll take Buell for a run & get back to this. By the time you're date with Emma is over, I should have this figured out for you."

"It isn't a date!" Peter hissed.

"Sure it isn't."

"We're just going for coffee."

"I bet you are."

"Oh! Just—grr! Stay in there!" Peter slammed the door closed once more. "Idiot."

"I heard that!"

"Gabriel!"

"Yes?"

"Shut up!" Peter ordered, grabbing Emma's hand & making a run for it.

Peter led Emma down the street, across it, then around a corner to a little café. Once inside, they sat down in a corner booth. Peter crossed his arms, glaring at nothing in particular.

**(Any dialog for Emma in '**_**italics' **_**is to be read as sign language. 'Straight' is spoken English.)**

"What was that about?" Emma said in her monotone voice.

"I have no idea what's going on in that head of his these days," Peter muttered.

"I think your friend is trying to play match-maker," Emma went on.

"Ha!" Peter scoffed loudly. "Not to subtle is he? That's Gabriel Sylar for you."

"Sylar?" Emma sat back sharply. "No. He...can not be...Sylar."

Peter looked at her. "Yeah that's him, alright."

"I thought...Sylar...was a serial killer?"

"He is," Peter said before thinking. "I mean...was."

"I don't understand," Emma shifted uncomfortably in her seat. How could that dear man who saved her just last night...be that monster? No wonder Doyle was afraid of him.

"Uhh," Peter sighed heavily. He rubbed his face with one hand. "Here we go. Emma? Did you get my text yesterday?"

"I answered it."

"You did? Sorry, I left my phone at home," Peter stretched his hands across the table, hoping she would take them. After some hesitation, she did. "Yesterday added twelve years to my life & his."

"Twelve years?"

"Yes," Peter nodded. "On record, the last time Sylar killed was a few days ago but in our reality, it was twelve years ago."

Emma released his hands, pulling away once more. _You don't make sense._

Very slowly, Peter tried to make his fingers work this language. _Let me try, please?_

Emma watched him nervously. How could he be associated with someone like Sylar? "Alright," She put her hands across the table for him to hold once more.

"Thank you," he grabbed her hands & launched into the full explanation. Several minutes later, he finally stopped talking.

Emma sat back once more, letting it all sink in. "It's all very strange," she finally spoke. "Just a few days ago, you were telling me how you & Sylar often fought each other. Often trying to the death. The Kirby Plaza. Now you are best friends with him?"

"Emma, try to see it my way," Peter implored. "It was twelve years ago."

"A monster like him should not be allowed to live," Emma said. "There are reasons why some states have the death penalty. It's for people like him."

"Sylar can't die," Peter said. "Neither can my niece. That's where he got it from actually. Neither can I, usually; though, I seem to be stuck with only one active power at a time. I can feel them all in there. Inside me. I just need someone else to boost them one at a time."

"I still can't believe we're talking about the same person as the man I saw last night," Emma cast her eyes to the table so Peter couldn't talk to her. She saw rays of light shimmering around the tabletop. Peter was knocking on it, demanding her attention. She finally looked up at him once more.

"Look, this is the only way," Peter went on once he was sure she was reading him again. "He can't die. He can't be caged since his powers are too strong, he can easily bust out. Keeping him close & safe will keep everyone else safe. Since we came out of that nightmare, his power no longer controls him. This murdering mess the poor guy's in really isn't his fault. I have his power to, occasionally. It's like a vampire, demanding constant attention when I have it activated. It took him a long time to learn to control it. I'm lucky. I'm not stuck with it every day. He is. He never asked for this."

"We choose our paths, Peter," Emma said.

"What do you think he's trying to do?" Peter tried to explain. "Gabriel's been fighting that ability since he first discovered it. He never wanted to kill in the first place. If anything, he's his own worst victim."

They sat in silence for what seemed a lifetime. Emma knew that when she met Sylar again, she would look at him very differently. How could that man be...that man? But then again, who was she to judge? She never asked for her power either. "In a way, I kind of understand him," Emma suddenly said.

"What?"

"My power," Emma went on. "You saw what it did to that wall. I used it last night to knock Doyle over. What if I was too strong? I could have killed him."

"I'm not going to lie to you," Peter said. "But that thought had crossed my mind. You have a strong ability. If used incorrectly, it can seriously hurt someone. You'll have to learn to control it. Just like Gabriel."

"Mine does not demand blood," Emma pointed out.

"No," Peter agreed. "but it can still spill it."

Emma flicked up an eyebrow in surprise as Peter stood up & they soon left the café. Emma returned home while Peter went back to the hospital. Sylar was nowhere in sight. Neither was Buell. Peter concentrated on the few patients that came in that day, mostly performing first aid as needed. Slowly but surely, it was all starting to come back to him; though, he was sure to look the other way & be engrossed in something whenever the question of whoever destroyed that ambulance came up.

* * *

"So that's the girl he mentioned," a man's voice rasped out. On the TV, Claire jumping from the Ferris Wheel was shown again. It had been replayed in the morning news. The midday news. The evening news. It was front page as well. "Didn't think this day would come," the man muttered to himself, switching off the TV & picking up his phone. "Hi, Ralph? Get the others. We found her."


	2. Chapter 2

**(2) The Hunt**

**Claire/Gretchen in Arlington, VA**

"Claire? Claire!" Gretchen was jumping up & down, waving both hands for attention as Claire came off the plane & headed up the walkway through the terminal. "Over here!"

After glancing around, Claire finally located the raven-headed girl behind the crowds. "Gretchen! Hi!" She shoved her way over.

Gretchen finally got a hold of Claire's arm & pulled her away towards the car. "What the heck do you think you were doing?" She demanded all the way.

"Doing? What?" Claire flustered, getting into the car.

"Oh, you know what," Gretchen wrinkled her nose at her. "The whole college saw you take a flying leap. I'm surprised you came back here."

"Dad sent me back," Claire explained. "Besides, I would have come to see you anyway, eventually." She patted her friend's hand.

"I wouldn't have left you alone until you did," Gretchen teased before coming dead serious. "Now, kindly explain to me where you put your head when you did that because you certainly didn't have it on your shoulders that night."

"Ok ok," Claire held up her hands in defense. "I'm just tired of the lies & hiding really."

"That's a start."

"What more do you want?" Claire looked at her questioningly. "There's really nothing anyone can do to me. I can't die. I can't feel pain. Not like I exposed anyone else per se."

"I noticed you didn't mention any names," Gretchen turned the car onto the highway.

"Not everyone will want to be exposed yet," Claire said. "My friend, West, for example. He doesn't want to expose himself. He's the reason why I really didn't mention any names. There are others like him, most likely. I don't want to step on anyone's toes more than I have to."

"Hmm, good idea," Gretchen nodded.

"Mind if we stop somewhere before getting back to college?" Claire asked holding up her phone. "It died half-way through trying to get all my messages done. I need more time & more battery."

"Sure, I know just the place," said Gretchen. "We'll be there in a minute. So, are you going to tell me the real reason now?"

"What?"

"Claire."

"Gretchen."

The car stopped for a red light & Gretchen only moved her eyes sideways to watch Claire. "You haven't told me everything."

"What?"

"What, what?"

"Oh, come on!" Claire moaned. "I'm tired & jet-lagged."

"Jet-lagged? Hardly," Gretchen scoffed. "You barely came from the state next door. Come on. I know you. There's more to this."

"Ho-hummmmm," Claire mockingly yawned wide. "Why don't you tell me since my brain's all mushed up right now."

"Well," Gretchen put the car in gear once more. "Brains do have something to do with it."

Claire lazily opened one eye. "Really? This could be interesting."

"I'm talking about him," Gretchen finally said. "Your stalker. Sylar. I'm surprised you didn't even mention his name."

Claire sat up sharply. "This has nothing to do with him!"

"Oh-ho-ho!" Gretchen laughed. "Doesn't it? Now that everyone knows about people with abilities, you have a better chance of exposing & catching him, don't you? More people than ever before are going to know exactly how he works now."

"Sylar was the last thing on my mind when I...took...a flying leap!" Claire exclaimed. "I didn't even know he was there until after Dad brought me to the car & we were driving away."

"He was there?" Gretchen asked, surprised. She parked the car in an empty lot in front of a gas station.

"Apparently so," Claire got out, phone in hand. "Dad said he was with my Uncle & they left together. Which is very weird, usually those two are trying to kill each other."

"Is that why you wouldn't have come back right away if your Dad didn't send you?" Gretchen didn't have to ask.

"Something's up," Claire acknowledged. "I want to know what's going on with those guys, especially since it concerns my uncle. But as usual, Dad has to do it for me. I was hoping exposing myself would change things. Guess not."

Gretchen remained silent as Claire took care of her phone problems. "You'll never rest, will you?" She asked once they were headed back to the car.

"Oh, I intend to," answered Claire. "As soon as we're back, I'm going up to our dorm & crashing."

"I was referring to Sylar."

Claire let her hand holding the phone lower to her side. "Again?"

"You stalk that man just about as much as he stalks you."

"I do not," Claire muttered. "Dad does that. I just want to be the one who strikes the final blow, once we figure out how to remove the Regen that is."

"I hope he never comes around again," Gretchen pulled back onto the highway. "I don't want to meet him."

"Uhh, well, you already did."

"When?"

"Look, I didn't want to tell you this before," Claire said. "I didn't want to frighten you but, remember that 'jerk who stole your backpack' day?"

"Yeah, you got it ba—that was him?"

"Yep."

"Get in line for killing him then," Gretchen muttered. "He just sat down, grabbed my bag & ran for it. No explanation! I gave up running after him. He can move fast."

"I'm just glad he left you alone besides that," Claire continued surfing through her phone. "Ah, finally. Uncle Peter left me a few messages." She put the phone to her ear & started listening. During the next fifteen or so minutes of silence, Claire's face went from neutral to annoyance & then puzzlement to shock. She put the phone away, pondering Peter's messages.

"What?" Gretchen half-laughed at her.

Claire turned in her seat a little to look at her. "I...don't rightly know."

"What he say?" Gretchen demanded.

"Uhh, well first he's pissed off at me for exposing myself," Claire started explaining. "The way he ranted about it, for THREE messages in a row, you'd think I stripped naked or something! Sheesh. Then he said that he &...uh Gabriel—that's Sylar's real name—are twelve years out of the loop. Apparently, Matt Parkman had something to do with it."

"I've been lost since you mentioned the twelve year thing," Gretchen admitted.

"Yeah," Claire nodded her head a little. "I don't get that one either."

"Did they time travel or something?"

"I don't know," said Claire. "I need to see him."

"No, now Claire..."

"Not Sylar! Peter. Then I'll know. Actually," Claire thought for a moment. "All I need is a recent picture of him. Like from today. I can get Dad to send me one."

"How will that help?"

"People have run into a Future version of my Uncle before," Claire explained. "Somewhere, someday, he's going to pick up time-travel. Again. Anyway, that Future Peter has a scar across his face. That's how I'll know just exactly who we're dealing with."

"That would explain your Uncle, but does Sylar time-travel?"

"Uhh, not that I know of. But Peter could drag him or anyone else along anywhere to any time. Hiro does that to," Claire explained. "Ah, I don't know what to do with him. Uncle Peter isn't taking my exposure very well."

"Maybe you should talk to him," Gretchen said. "You can explain your side & so can he."

"I'll just text him for now," Claire sighed. "I hope he'll come around soon."

* * *

**Noah Bennet in NYC, NY**

After driving Claire straight to the airport, Noah Bennet checked into a motel for the night. He left just after dawn, driving first to the area where Sylar's apartment was. Parking the car a few blocks away out of sight, Noah strode up the street until he came near to the apartment. He ducked out of sight down an alley & slowly but methodically maneuvered himself around until he was beside the window. Daring a glance in, he noticed that it seemed empty. Noah quickly turned around, glancing this way & that. Sylar had a habit of sneaking up on people & he had no intention of being caught.

Once sure that he was alone, Noah picked away at the lock until he could open the door. He headed for the nearest desk & started looking through one drawer than another. He checked every piece of paper he got his hands on, looking for something, anything, to explain Sylar's behavior the night before. All he found were a few old watches.

Noah grumbled under breath on how Sylar seemed to be getting better at covering his tracks. About to give up, Noah turned his direction to the door. He noticed a receipt of some sort lying on the small square coffee table next to the armchair. He picked it up. "Buell Motorbike. Price $22.455" Noah looked up at the door, thinking for a moment. He tucked the receipt away & left.

Noah tracked the receipt down to the one who sold it. It was a small business outside NYC where several used vehicles were fixed & sold. "I'm looking for the one you sold this to."

After a moment looking over the receipt the man said, "Ah, the Buell. It's a fine bike, only used a couple of times but I don't ride anymore."

"So you don't have any others?"

"No, sorry, that company just closed down. They're part of the Harley-Davidsons though, if you're interested."

"I wanted that bike," Noah pretended to be disappointed. "I saw her as I drove by the other day. Figured I'd get it for my son's birthday present."

"Oh, sorry," the man replied. "Good luck trying to find one."

"Well, I was wondering," Noah began. "Maybe you could tell me where the one who bought it went & I could buy it off him."

"I really shouldn't do that," the man said. "Stuff like that should be..."

"Should be confidential," Noah finished with a small laugh. "Yeah, I know. Ah well, I was really hoping to get that bike. It would have been perfect for him. But anyway..." He turned to leave.

"You know, maybe," the man stammered. "Maybe just this once. How old is your son going to be?"

"25," Noah said, quickly making something up, hoping to get his way. "It's his champagne year to, he was born on the 25."

"I see."

Noah leaned his hands on the counter. "I'm just the 'old man' looking for a nice gift for a special year in my son's life. Not like I'm going to kill the previous owner or anything."

"You know, there is something I could tell you that shouldn't violate much," the man suddenly spoke. "He didn't say much, other than that his name's Gabriel. He also mentioned something about hurrying to the Mercy Heights Hospital to show it off to his friend, Peter."

"As in Peter Petrelli?" Noah asked, acting very amazed, of course. "The Peter Petrelli?"

"I've heard that name before. Maybe. Hope that helps."

"Yes, yes is does," Noah nodded. "Thanks." He returned to his car & drove away. At least he knew where Sylar was going. Back to Peter's side. Noah still couldn't wrap his head around that one. Why wasn't Peter fighting the man off? Waiting for the light to turn green, he felt his phone vibrate. Noah checked it & found a message from Claire.

"Dad, get a picture of Peter today & send it to me. I need to know if he has that scar or not."

Noah snapped the phone shut, trying not to show any concern on his face. The scar? Was he dealing with the Future Peter? He headed for Mercy Heights & stopped the car opposite the garage for the ambulances, watching for any signs of Peter. He soon noticed a pair running from the side door & heading down the street. It was Peter with Emma in tow. Noah followed slowly, making sure to stay well behind until they entered the café around the corner.

Noah parked his car, got out & headed for the door. He pulled his jacket collar up around his neck & grabbed a newspaper off an outdoor table. Stepping inside, he noticed the pair in the far corner, sitting across from each other. Keeping the newspaper in front of his face, Noah moved closer until he was able to sit down nearby with his back towards them. He pretended to read as he listened in on the conversation as much as possible.

There was a long moment of silence. Noah was getting annoyed, hoping they'd drop the sign language & continue in English. He couldn't turn around to read them or else he would expose himself. It didn't matter anyway as sign language was one language he didn't know. So he waited, keeping his back towards them as he 'read' the paper. He heard someone or something knocking on a tabletop.

"Alright," Emma's voice suddenly said.

"Thank you," said Peter's voice. The lengthy explanation that came next all but stunned Noah. He lowered his paper slightly, staring ahead over the top. What? Sylar & Peter were twelve years out of the loop? He continued listening.

Emma seemed unsure of it, even going so far as to mention the death penalty. Peter however, nearly made Noah drop his paper in shock when he launched into a full defense against his sworn enemy who was now apparently his friend.

As the pair got up to leave, Noah tried to recover as best possible & hid behind the paper once more to wait until they were gone. He stood up once the door closed. "So," he whispered to himself. "Peter can no longer be trusted." He left a few moments later, wondering if perhaps Emma would see things Peter's way or perhaps she would be useful later. He sent a quick message to Claire's phone. "No scar." No scar, but no picture either.

* * *

**Peter/Emma Mercy Heights Hospital**

"Emma, are you sure you're alright?" Peter asked. "You haven't said or signed anything since we left that café."

"It is a lot to absorb," Emma finally spoke, half-signing it out. "Barely two days ago, you would have said something different."

"I know," Peter sighed. "By the way, I've missed you."

Emma cheeks turned red & she turned away trying to smother a giggle. After a moment or two, she was able to look Peter in the eye. "Twelve years later?"

Peter playfully held up his hands for a moment. "Oh, hold on. Phone." He flipped it open. "Hello? Gabriel, where are you?"

"Just getting Buell tuned up," Sylar answered. "I'm putting her to the test by taking her to New Jersey."

"Uh-huh," Peter wasn't impressed. "Usually when you're moving around like that, you're tracking someone."

"Not this time," Sylar said without missing a beat. "I actually have a mountain cabin up there somewhere by a lake."

"I didn't know that."

"Uhh, well," Sylar hesitated. "That was the general idea many years ago. Wait. A few weeks ago. Or was it months, now I can't remem—what was I saying?"

"We have got to get over this feeling!" Peter complained.

"I know," Sylar agreed. "I think apart from you, I'm never trusting mind readers again. Neither do I want that power!"

"Um, thanks, I think," Peter half-laughed. "Where are you?"

"Don't you want to take one of those ambulances for a test run before I go? Or do you even need me right now?"

"You're over there?" Peter checked out a window that had the garage in view. Sure enough, Buell was perched on the side with a bright red locking bar across one wheel. "I'll be right over." He closed the phone, muttering under breath. "Oh boy. Here we go." Once he gained Emma's attention, he quickly signed, _Be back later._ She cast him a curious look but he merely waved her away with one hand as he left. He found Sylar already sitting in one of the vans & climbed up into the driver's seat beside him. "So, how many of these things did you cut into?"

"Ha, ha I forgot how to laugh," Sylar glared.

"Just asking."

"Take us out of here & make sure it's in forward this time," Sylar ordered. "Turn right, away from Buell, please."

Peter rolled his eyes, half-wanting to turn left & run the damn bike down. "You don't like that bike much, do you?" he asked sarcastically.

Sylar shook his head in annoyance. "You do remember how to turn a vehicle right, don't you?" He retorted in sarcasm as well, earning another eye roll.

* * *

Noah Bennet pulled into the main parking lot of the hospital & got out. He headed inside, looking for Peter but after a fruitless search he only found Emma behind a desk in one office. She had her back to him so he leaned against the doorframe to block her way out & waited.

Emma gasped in surprise when she turned to leave & saw Noah standing there. "Who are you?"

Noah noticed she was staring hard at his mouth & considered the fact that she was capable of conversing in spoke language with others when looking at them. She must be able to read lips. "Sorry to frighten you," Noah said. "I'm Noah Bennet. Have you seen Peter Petrelli lately?"

Emma smiled softly, nodding her head. "He just left."

"Just left?" Noah deflated slightly. "I see. What about that friend of his? Uh, Gabriel?"

Emma stood silent a moment, reflecting on the conversation with Peter earlier. "Only once this morning. He was in the garage with Peter."

"Is something wrong?" Noah tried to discern whether someday she would be useful to him or not.

"Wrong?" Emma asked, slightly flustered but trying not to show it. "Oh, no. Nothing's wrong. I think Peter was talking to him on the phone a moment ago but I saw few words."

"Alright," Noah said. "I'll catch him later."

"I'll tell him you stopped by."

"Oh, no, that's fine," Noah put up a hand. "We'll meet up eventually."

"Ok," Emma nodded her head as he left.

Noah sighed heavily as he crossed the lot back to his car. Sylar was more of a chore to find than ever. He looked up towards the garage. There! There she was. The Buell. Sylar was around here this very minute. Noah felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. Sylar was most likely watching him this very second. Noah got into his car once more & waited, watching the Buell.

During the night at the motel, Noah had been busy. After spending some time on the phone with those from the old company that had taken Samuel Sullivan, he had managed to secure another cell, though separate & far from Samuel, this time for Sylar. The trick was not catching him at last, but keeping him down. Only drugs could knock out a Regenerator, but then, only for a short time. It was supposed to be simple. Close in on Sylar. Drug him Bring him in. But the most unexpected thing all but ruined that. Peter Petrelli was like a stubborn wedge in an otherwise good wheel. Noah had not planned on the apparent, sudden, friendship between Peter & Sylar. He was even less prepared for that shocking conversation he had listened in on.

Peter was not to be trusted now. Twelve years for twelve hours. Noah pulled his glasses off & rubbed his tired eyes.

* * *

**Ralph, NYC**

"Sir, we're to late," Ralph said over his phone. Three other men followed close behind. All were dressed in suits. "She was already taken from the carnival before we got her."

"She couldn't have gotten far," an old man's voice said over the phone. "Find her! Check every airport, bus stop & train station for the name Claire Bennet."

"Already done," Ralph said. "There was one by that name who flew to Virginia."

"Virginia," the man hissed angrily. "Well then, you're nowhere near her! Get a move on already. I haven't got all day!"

"Yes, sir," Ralph muttered, snapping his phone shut. "Guys, it looks like we're heading for Virginia."

* * *

"Are you ok, now?" Sylar asked.

"Yeah, it's all coming back to me now."

"Celine Dion fan?" Sylar teased.

"What?" Peter truly had no clue.

"You just quoted one of her...lines..." Sylar stopped talking as Peter's face looked more & more confused. "from...never mind. What does that one do?" He pointed to one switch or another on the dash.

"That's the siren."

"You sure?" Sylar raised an eyebrow.

Peter's shoulders slouched as he groaned tiredly. "Gabriel."

"Could be the radio."

"Sylar."

"What?" Sylar smiled pleasantly.

"I know what the siren looks like," Peter muttered. "I haven't forgotten everything."

"Ok, I'm just making sure here, you know, before you drive a patient off the road or something."

"Will you be quiet?" Peter grumbled. He turned the truck around. "Let's get back so I can get rid of you."

Sylar only laughed at him. "Good. I can't wait to really try out Buell."

"So what's with this cabin of yours, anyway?"

Sylar took a long time in answering. "It was kind of my hideout. That's why no one knows of it. Now, it really doesn't matter. But it's a great place for a summer vacation. You should bring Emma up there some day."

"Gabriel," Peter moaned.

"What?" Sylar asked innocently. "You two should totally come up! You'd like it. I'll get a spare key made for you in a few days."

"Thanks, Gabe," Peter shook his head. Emma was right. Sylar had gone from self-appointed executioner to self-appointed matchmaker. Peter had no choice but to let himself be set up. "I need to talk to Claire. In person," Peter suddenly said.

"I see," Sylar shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Then the sooner I leave, the better."

"Part of me agrees with that, part of me wants you around."

"Around...Claire?" Sylar stared at him in disbelief. "Never thought I'd see that day."

"I know you won't hurt her," Peter said. "It isn't that. It's just...what she did. I've sent her more than a few messages about it. She answered back saying that the sooner the world knows about us the better. I disagree. We shouldn't just jump into something like this."

"Well, sooner or later, it's bound to come out," said Sylar. "Might as well get it over with."

"Not like this," Peter said. "I'm hoping to keep this incident with Claire under wraps & that no one else gets exposed. It just...isn't right."

Sylar looked at him, wanting to ask questions but decided not to. Peter seemed dead set against this. He had good reason to be. He kept thinking of the time his Future self brought him to. Everyone publicly had abilities. That painting he had done of the world cracking apart. Peter side-glanced at Sylar for a moment. There was another thing on his mind. Was that family even going to exist? Peter mentally kicked himself for not at least asking whom the mother of Sylar's son was. Matchmaker. If anything, he was the one who was supposed to set Sylar up, not the other way around. Oh well, Peter had no choice but to figure it out the hard way.


	3. Chapter 3

**(3) Taken**

**Claire/Gretchen, Virginia**

Claire felt a hand petting her face. She sleepily rolled over & opened her eyes. "Gretchen, what're you doing?" she mumbled.

"You must be jet-lagged," said Gretchen. "Class is in ten minutes."

"Hmm," Claire sighed, falling back asleep. Next instant, she sat right up, smacking foreheads with Gretchen.

"Ah! Ow!" Gretchen toppled off the side of Claire's bed & landed on the floor, rubbing the bump.

Claire swung out of bed & set down beside her. "I'm sorry! Ten minutes? Is that all?" She started rushing around trying to get ready.

"Slow down," Gretchen moaned, still rubbing her face. "You can just tell them you knocked me out!"

"I'm really sorry," Claire said quickly, ignoring the glare. "I can't believe I slept in on a weekday! If I'm late for class, who knows what'll happen?"

"You'll pass," Gretchen tried to calm Claire down. "You always do."

"I don't know," Claire said. "I've had a lot on my mind & didn't really study much."

"Well, it's the weekend after today," Gretchen sat again on Claire's bed. "Why don't we get out of here the moment class is done? Go to some big city & shop."

The blur that was Claire came into focus for a few moments. "I haven't gone on a shopping spree in ages. But we don't really have the time."

"If we leave right after class we do," said Gretchen. "We could spend a couple of days...spending! You really could clear your head, you know."

"I'll think about it," Claire pulled on a pale blue shirt & grabbed her phone off the small table next to her bed. "Again?" She glanced at it for one moment before shoving it away.

"What now?"

"Peter," Claire rolled her eyes. "Ok, so long as we don't go to New York City, I guess we should get out of here for a bit."

"You're not going to answer him back?"

"I will," Claire muttered. "Later. I'll think about what to say to him. But I don't want to deal with him right now, so the NYC is off-limits. Especially since he's with Sylar now."

"Alright," Gretchen agreed, standing up. "Did you get that picture of Peter yet?"

"Dad didn't send me one," Claire answered. "But he said that there was no scar."

"Does his Future self look like now besides that?"

"More or less," Claire said. "It's across his face & alters his appearance a bit."

"Scars are sexy," Gretchen shrugged. "My first boyfriend had a huge one across his chest on an otherwise perfect body. It's what made me jump him."

"You had a boyfriend?"

"I had two way back in high school. Not at the same time," said Gretchen. "But you would be my first girl."

"I am?"

"Yeah."

Claire roughly shook her head. "Let's get to class."

It was all Claire could do to focus on anything remotely related to class work. Since returning to college, she had been caught in corridors with swarms of students wanting to talk to her & it wasn't until Gretchen had threatened to hurt anyone that people started leaving her alone. Claire didn't mind too much. It was to be expected after all. But apart from people now knowing what she was capable of, nothing much seemed to change. Besides that, if Peter had anything to do with it, things might just stay that way. Claire groaned inwardly. Why was Peter so stuck on keeping abilities in the dark anyway?

"Philadelphia."

"Hmm?" Claire mumbled, quickly sitting straight as she realized that she had been daydreaming at her desk.

"Philadelphia," Gretchen whispered slightly louder this time. "To go shopping. I saw it on the map at the back of this textbook & thought, why not? It isn't here & it isn't in New York. Somewhere in-between."

Claire hid a yawn behind her hand. "Sounds perfect."

"Really?"

"Yeah, sure," Claire nodded her head. "How much time do we have left?"

"Just a few minutes," Gretchen turned her attention to the books once more when she noticed that the Professor had glanced in their direction.

* * *

**Angela/Peter, his apartment in NYC**

Mid-morning the next day, Peter sprawled out across his couch, paper in one hand. He was interrupted before he could start reading. He got up reluctantly from his couch to answer the incessant pounding at the door. "Mom? Wha—ok. Come right in." Peter closed the door behind her as she shoved past.

"I demand to know what's going on!" Angela whirled on her youngest; only, son as she all but slammed her furred gloves on the nearest stand.

"Uh, well, I was going to read a bit," Peter said.

"With Sylar!"

"Oh," Peter glanced to the floor.

"Yes, 'Oh!'" Angela repeated. "Noah Bennet called me."

"Oh, boy!" Peter crossed one arm over his chest & rested his other elbow in it while he covered his face with one hand.

"Sylar...is your friend?" Angela went on. "Have you forgotten what he did to this family? To you? Me? Nathan? Especially my granddaughter—your niece?"

"Alright, hold it," Peter held up both hands, trying to calm her down.

"What are you doing with that monster?" Angela demanded in a low, yet dangerous voice.

"Mom!" Peter put both hands on either of her shoulders but she threw them off.

"Don't you 'Mom' me!" She snarled. "No son of mine would call Sylar friend!"

"Can I just," Peter started. "Just let me explain. Please."

"There's nothing to explain," Angela glared at him. "You're either with this family, or you're not."

"Alright, Mom, just...just sit down," Peter ushered her to the armchair. "Please."

After another malicious look, Angela sat down, albeit stiffly with her nose slightly turned up as if not wanting to listen. "You better have a good explanation for this. I don't want to lose both my sons."

Peter glowered back for a moment & before he could stop himself, "You called Gabriel 'son' for a while, don't you remember?" flew off his tongue.

"How dare you!" Angela stood up sharply. "I had my reasons for that."

Peter spread both hands across the front of her shoulders & pushed her down once more. "Sorry. Now will you please let me explain?"

Angela lifted her head a little higher, defiantly. "Go on, then."

Peter breathed a sigh of relief before starting. He knelt down in front of her, holding her hands in his for the next several minutes.

"That doesn't change what he did," Angela said once Peter was finished.

"No, but it'll change what he will do."

"It won't bring Nathan back!"

Peter winced at that. He stood up & turned away. "I know."

"Sylar is a killer. I don't want you around him."

"Mom," Peter sighed heavily.

"Stay away from him," Angela ordered. "He's been in these moods before, having a period of not killing. It won't last. You're powers are broken. You don't always have Regen. He'll kill you like he killed Nathan. I won't stand for it!"

"And how many times have I been responsible for Nathan's death?" Peter shot back. "In almost every time line my scarred self comes from, he is either responsible for killing Nathan or he has come to kill Nathan."

"But he didn't," Angela said stubbornly. "He was able to change all that & spare Nathan's life every time."

"No, Mom," said Peter. "Not every time. I killed him, too. Me! Without the scar. I did it." Angela stared at him as Peter went on. "Remember that time you made Gabriel think he was my brother? I had jumped forward about four years to get his power. I killed the Nathan of that time in the exact same way, using Gabriel's power. Right across there," Peter made a slash motion across his forehead. "I'm just as guilty as he is. That is kind of how we came together. We share the same power. We share the same guilt." He leaned close to her & whispered. "I know. I...understand...exactly. Exactly! What Gabriel goes through. We help each other."

"So, that's it then?" Angela was still staring angrily at Peter. "You two go on this twelve-year loop & all is forgiven? Everything's ok?"

"No, Mom," Peter shook his head. "Forgiven yes but not forgotten! It doesn't make anything ok & he knows it. But, hopefully, it will stop something like this from ever happening again. If I continue to keep him close, keep an eye on him, I'll be able to save everybody from this wretched ability."

"Keep your friends close but your enemies closer," Angela said softly, for once.

"Something like that," Peter ran his hand through his hair. "Wait, what does Bennet have to do with this?"

"He's been tracking Sylar since the night of the carnival," Angela explained.

"No, no! Leave him alone," Peter moaned. "I am responsible for that man now. I can handle him. What does he plan to do anyway? Gabriel has Regen. He can't die or be caged."

"You Regenerators can be knocked out if struck properly."

"Gabe shifted that spot," Peter said. "Besides, pull out whatever is pressed in & we pop right up again."

"You know how intent Noah is on catching Sylar," Angela said. "He's been after him for years."

"Ha!" Peter scoffed. "He's responsible for Gabe's messy life!"

"You know he usually gets what he wants," Angela went on. "He'll find a way to remove the Regen then he can take Sylar down."

"Not to mention his daughter & probably me," Peter pointed out. "If something was ever developed to destroy the Regen, he'll put us all at risk."

Angela tiredly rubbed her forehead. "It's out of my hands. Quite frankly, I don't really care if Sylar is destroyed. After what he did, he deserves to die!"

"I'll keep him away from you," said Peter. "Where's Noah? I should talk to him."

"He's long gone," Angela said, heading for the door. "Heading up to New Jersey after Sylar."

"Great!" Peter muttered to himself once his mother had left. He grabbed his phone & called Sylar. "Come on, Gabriel! Pick up. Pick u—Gabr—voice message. Fine! Hey, Gabriel! Get off the road. Noah Bennet is after you." After hanging up on Sylar, he checked his messages, hoping for a word from Claire. There was one.

"Gretchen & I are in Philadelphia right now for a shopping spree. I'll talk to you later; though, there's really nothing left to be said about it."

"That's what you think," Peter snapped his phone shut. He thought again of the time jump. The painting of a cracking world. There, everyone knew about abilities. Was his niece the start of it? Not if he had anything to do with it! He was going to Philadelphia if it was the last thing he did. Maybe he could reason with Claire. Get her to see his side. Get her to claim it was all a hoax. A show put on by the carnival! Anything. It was time to save the world again.

Peter headed to the hospital first & had a few others cover his shifts over the weekend, declaring family emergency. Then he headed for the nearest airport to take the next flight to Philadelphia. Once he was settled on the plane, he called Sylar once more who had yet to answer his call. Peter was starting to worry if Noah Bennet had caught up with him. Sure, Sylar could take care of himself around Noah Bennet, but that was the problem; how he might go about it.

"Hello?"

"Gabriel! Finally," Peter sat up a little. "I was starting to worry. Don't you ever check your phone?"

"Not when I'm on the road," Sylar answered. "You're lucky you caught me. I just turned it on for a bit while I stopped for some ice cream."

"You're going to get fat eating that stuff."

"Not really," Sylar played with a chocolate ball before eating into it. "The Regen takes care of it."

"Look, you must get off the road," Peter began. "Noah Bennet is right behind you."

"What?" Sylar stopped playing with his ice cream & looked up.

"He's been tracking you since the carnival the other night," Peter explained. "He knows you're heading to New Jersey."

Sylar let out a breath in a sharp, annoyed hiss. ""I'm already here, about to turn onto the back roads to get to the cabin. I can handle him."

"Yeah, that's what I'm worrying about. What if you lose control?"

"Then Claire will really be mad at me."

"This isn't a laughing matter!"

"Who says I'm laughing? It would be a fact."

"Sylar," Peter groaned. Someone over the PA started talking, saying all electronics should be turned off. "Great, I got to go."

"Are you on a plane?"

"I'm going to Philadelphia," Peter said. "You should meet me there. We can handle Noah together."

"Alright," Sylar finished the ice cream & strode outside towards Buell. "If I stay on the highway, I should be there in a few hours. What are you going there for?"

"Claire & Gretchen are there over the weekend."

"I see," Sylar stopped mid-step. "I'll just continue to my cabin then. It's better that way."

"Don't worry about her," Peter said. "Just meet me there. We'll get Noah off your case, unless you want him knowing about your lake house?"

"Not really. But Peter," Sylar stared at the ground for a moment. "Is this really a good idea?"

"You don't have to see her," Peter said. "Just me. I'll keep you two separate."

"I really don't like this," said Sylar, glancing around. He saw an old dark green car parked on the roadside. Come to think of it, he's been seeing that car for a while now. "I'll be there."

"Thank you," Peter closed his phone before Sylar had time to change his mind.

* * *

**Sylar/Noah Bennet, New Jersey**

Sylar pretended not to notice the old green car. He revved Buell up & pulled away. Ahead, the road split in three different directions. If he turned left, he would eventually end up on the old back roads leading to his cabin. Right would have a similar, but much longer roundabout result. Going ahead would eventually lead him to Peter, not to mention Claire. Sylar felt like he was at a crossroad of life itself. Claire was the last person he wanted to be around. Checking one little mirror of Buell, he noticed the green car far behind him. It seemed to wait, not wanting to catch up. "Noah Bennet. You are so busted!"

Sylar suddenly surged ahead, gaining speed as he went. The car charged after him. Sylar suddenly swung it around into the opposite direction, driving past the car & turned onto the back road. The car screeched to a halt. While it took its time to turn around, Sylar urged Buell into her fastest speed. Noah's car soon appeared behind him in the mirror. As the road turned out of sight, Sylar swung around once more, stopping Buell. He backed up off the way out of sight. The green car whizzed past before grinding to a halt.

Noah Bennet glanced around. Both Sylar & the Buell seemed to have vanished. They couldn't have gone far. He put the car in reverse & backed up. Sylar had laid the Buell flat on the ground behind two large trees. He lay down beside it, watching the road through large leaves. The underbrush was thick & dark. Dressed completely in black leather riding gear, with the Buell mostly black as well, both were virtually hidden in the forest.

The car continued backing until it past by the hiding spot. Sylar lay as flat as possible, watching it. He had no intention of killing Noah Bennet. He had already killed enough of Claire's family. No, he would let that horrible HRG live, if only for Claire's sake. Sylar curled his fingers into the ground, trying to hold on. The need to kill was slowly rising within him. He closed his eyes, trying to fight it off. So it was coming back! He had no choice now. The sooner he was next to Peter, or even Claire, the better. Sylar rolled his shoulder blades as best possible, being stuck in this position. He felt poised like a panther ready to strike. Probably looked like one too, considering the black; though, he lacked the tail. Sylar let his forehead hit the ground. No, wait. That was good! Think of silly things like that. Distracti—Oh, but would he love to rip Noah Bennet's head apa—Claire. Peter. But it had been twelve years since he had made a kill. It had been so long, he could almost taste the blood. Sylar peered through the leaves once more. The car had gone forward again, speeding faster as it went & soon disappeared around the corner.

"Great, that ought to deter him for a while," Sylar stood up, stretching out. He carefully lifted the Buell, brushing off the dirt & inspecting the paint. She didn't appear to be scratched but would definitely need to be cleaned up later. He rolled her back onto the road. He straddled her once more before leaning forward to rest his head between the handles. Sylar exhaled long & sharp. He didn't want to admit it but he had come very close to killing just now. He continued to rest, breathing in deep draughts of air. "Alright, Peter. We do things your way." With that, he turned Buell's front wheel towards Philadelphia.

* * *

**Peter/Sylar, Philadelphia**

Peter sat down on the park bench next to Sylar. "Are you alright? You sounded rather strange on the phone." He turned slightly to avoid the glare bouncing off Buell.

Sylar stared ahead, over Buell's seat. "I nearly killed today."

"But...you didn't?"

"Almost," Sylar closed his eyes. "This power. It's coming back. Coming back so strong again! My father was right. It comes & goes."

"Your father?"

"He has this ability too. It's where I got it from," Sylar leaned against the back of the bench. "Peter, I don't want this. I never did! How can we make it stop for good?"

"You did control it though?" Peter asked again. "Nothing happened."

"Yeah, this time," Sylar shivered a bit. "But what about next time? Or the time after? Like before when I never could control it."

"If you could control it this time, it must mean you're getting stronger against it," said Peter hopefully. "Who was it?"

"Noah Bennet."

"Well, yeah, that is a rather extreme case," said Peter quickly. "It's probably nothing then. Just pure instinct for survival."

"I have the Regen," Sylar said. "I don't need survival instincts."

"Nevertheless, it's all part of being human," said Peter. "Besides, a Regenerator can get knocked out."

"Not permanently," Sylar stared at the Buell once more. "At least, there's no way yet."

"Don't worry about it right now," said Peter. "I'm keeping my eye on you."

"Thanks," Sylar smiled dryly. "Did you figure out where Claire is?"

"Yep, I'm heading over there right now."

"You haven't spoken to her yet?" Sylar asked, surprised.

"No, I came looking for you first," said Peter. "After you called & said something was wrong & how anxious you sounded."

"Mm! Peter!" Sylar groaned. "Claire is the last person I want to be around. Especially now. "

"You don't have to come," Peter said. "She's in that hotel across the street."

"What?"

"You stay put. I'll be back later, then we can sort you out."

"Hurry up," Sylar ordered. "I really want to leave as soon as possible."

* * *

"Those look great on you," Gretchen said, glancing down to the high-heeled black boots Claire was strutting in.

"Couldn't resist," Claire laughed just as someone knocked on the door. She went to answer it as Gretchen settled herself on the bed. She emptied her wallet on the pillow & started sorting out the receipts. "Peter? What are you doing here?"

"I have to talk to you."

Claire sighed heavily. "Here we go again. What is it?" She stood back to let him in.

Peter stepped inside & glanced a moment at Gretchen before turning to Claire. "You've made a big mistake."

"I can't undo what I've done & I don't want to anyw—."

"No, you don't understand!" Peter interrupted her. "I've been to a future where abilities are more than just public knowledge. People start developing ways to give anyone an ability. Powers are available for a price then misused. It'll rip the world apart!"

"Peter, every time you come back from the future, it'll change."

"Only a bit," Peter said. "Main events still seem to happen, regardless of changes. I'm trying to s—"

"Save the world?" Claire finished for him.

"Yes," Peter said, then adding with a half-smile. "By saving the cheerleader once again."

"I don't need to be saved, Peter."

"Sometimes I wonder about that."

"Well, what do you expect me to do?" Claire asked. "It's too late now. Every news & newspaper had it for more than one day in a row. Everyone knows about it."

"Recall it. Say it was a hoax or a great carnival display."

"Peter," Claire rolled her eyes. "That would make me look like an idiot."

"Looking like an idiot is ok with me," said Peter. "If it stops the world from cracking, so be it."

"I don't want to lie anymore," Claire said. "What makes you think it'll crack the world anyway? I'm not selling abilities."

"No, but you've let the world know they exist."

"Who starts synthesizing them?"

"I don't know."

"Who starts selling them?"

"I don't know!"

"For someone who spent time in the future, you don't know that much," Claire pointed out. "Wouldn't it be better to go after whoever tries making them? Sooner or later someone's going to come up with that anyway, whether they know about me or not. It's already started." She waited a moment before asking, "What else did you see in that future of yours?"

Peter turned on his heel to head out the door. "Nothing!"

"Peter," Claire put a hand on his shoulder to stop him. "You'll figure it out. You always do.

"Just...don't start hating me," Peter said after a long moment. "Please."

"Hate you?" Claire smiled at him. "I could never hate you. You're my hero remember? You always will be."

Peter nodded to her & headed down the stairs. "I hope so."

Claire closed the door & turned to Gretchen who was now sitting on the bed looking through the window. "Peter has his heart in the right place, but sometimes he just has to learn to let things go."

"Is that him?" Gretchen nodded down her line of sight.

"Uh, Peter," Claire jerked her thumb over her shoulder to the door, slightly confused. "He, uh, just left."

Gretchen looked at her, wide-eyed. "I'm not referring to your uncle." Curious, Claire came over & settled beside her as Gretchen pointed. "There. That guy next to the motorbike. Across the street, see? He looks familiar.

Claire followed Gretchen's finger to its target. She suddenly gasped & turned sharply away from the window until she sat barely on the edge of the bed. "Sylar."

* * *

"So did you two straighten things out?" Sylar asked as Peter closed the distance between them.

"I guess," Peter shrugged. "There's not much more either of us can do about it."

Sylar glanced over Peter's head, across the street towards the large glass doors of the hotel's lobby. Buell glistened behind him in the sun. "We should leave, you know, before...she panics or something."

"Yeah," Peter agreed. "Too soon for her."

"She needs time to catch up to us," Sylar said. "It's twelve years for—uh oh. Too late. Claire, just don't wor—what do you want?" His voice was soft & gentle. He hoped she wouldn't fear him. He just wanted—needed—one chance to show that she would be safe now. "It's ok, Claire. I'm not going to hurt you. We were just leaving anyway. Claire?"

Claire said nothing, only held Sylar's gaze. It looked like she wanted to say something but couldn't find the words. Suddenly, Claire cast a quick glance at Peter before marching past both men, aiming straight for Buell idling by the curb. With one massive shove, she flipped the thing over. There was a crash as glass, metal & paint chips flew every which way upon impact. Buell's front tire bounced slightly, only to come down hard again.

Peter gasped. "Holy Mother of G—Gabe! No!"

"Are you insane?" Sylar glared in horror at his smashed bike. The light would never shine again, its pieces spread far & wide on the pavement. Bits of metal & chards of paint were strewn about. The handlebars were bent out of shape & the side Buell fell on was dashed & dented. Large gashes wounded her beautiful paint. The red sign over the hump behind the handlebars now said "Bue- -" with something that looked like half an L at the end of it. The kickstand would never hold her glory up again.

Claire turned on her heel, facing both men. Anger flashed through her eyes as well as Sylar's. She marched back across the street to the doors with neither a word or a backwards glance. Sylar started after her.

"No. No! Gabriel. Stay!" Peter yelled. He was suddenly knocked from his feet by a mild burst of Sylar's sonic scream. Landing upside down against a car parked nearby, Peter watched helplessly as Sylar stormed off after his niece, fists clenched tightly to his sides as beams of electricity encircled his hands. "Come back here. Halt! Oh, for God's sake." He moaned as he got up. Left alone with the broken Buell, he covered his face with both hands for a moment before following. Oh, this was bad. This was very, very bad. "Sylar!"

"Claire—CLAIRE!" Sylar burst through the doors hot on her heels. "Get back here right now!" He lifted his hand & summoned her back. "Why did you DO that? You ruined her. What were you thinking?" He physically slammed her against the wall, curling his fingers into the collar of her jacket. "Buell is destroyed. Give me your wallet."

"Let me go!"

"Fine," Sylar dropped her. "Now hand it over."

"It's in the room."

"Well then, go & get it," Sylar demanded, teeth clenched so hard, he nearly made them crack.

"Claire?" Gretchen appeared at the top of the stairs.

"Gretchen, go ba—Stop, Sylar!" Claire yelled to late & could only watch as the horrible man summoned Gretchen to his hand.

Sylar then slammed her against the wall in much the same manner he had just handled Claire. "Hurry up about that wallet." He pulled Gretchen close to him, pressing every body part matched against her own. He dipped his head a little while forcing the frightened girl's face up to his & sealed her mouth with his own.

"What are you doing?" Claire shrieked.

"I'm keeping your pretty girlfriend entertained while you get your wallet," Sylar moved one hand over Gretchen's breasts. "The longer you take, the more I'm going to get to know her.

"Let her go! Now!" Claire tried to run at him.

Sylar effortlessly swung Gretchen aside with one hand while raising the other towards her. Claire felt like she could move no further. "Uh uh uh!" He wagged his finger. "Wallet first. Then I'll let her go."

"Claire, please just do as he says," Gretchen sobbed.

Sylar looked at her & smiled softly. "Wise girl." He gave her a soft squeeze & began kissing her once more.

Claire growled & stomped her foot in rage. "Sylar! Don't you dare touch her!" She ran up the stairs to grab the wallet.

While she was gone, Sylar pulled away from Gretchen for a moment. "Don't even think about coming over here!" He snarled at a nearby hotel worker. A quick flick of his fingers sent the poor worker flying. "I'll do that to anyone who interferes. I am Sylar! Remember that name well." He turned his attention to Gretchen once more.

In a few moments, Claire was halfway down again. She saw Gretchen still pinned against the wall, Sylar's body pressed onto hers. "Here! Take it!"

Sylar let Gretchen go & grabbed the wallet. "I hope you've learned your lesson."

"What do you want it for?" Claire reached out & pulled Gretchen into her own arms.

"To pay for the damages you caused the Buell," Sylar said evenly, as if nothing had happened.

"You have that Midas touch," Claire hissed. "Why don't you use it?"

"I'm not the one who busted Buell," Sylar explained. "You pushed her over. You pay for it. It's the principle of the matter." He opened the wallet. Nothing! He looked up glaring at Claire who was walking away with Gretchen. "Claire!" He roared at her, throwing the wallet over the top of her head. The next instant, Gretchen felt a pull & found herself back in his arms. "Go put that thing in order, Claire. Gretchen & I will have a little more fun in the meantime." He then shoved one hand under Gretchen's clothes, first sliding up to her breasts once more, then moving downward.

"Don't, please!" Gretchen whispered. "That was my wallet, not hers. She grabbed the wrong one is all."

"Gabriel?" Peter ran inside. He saw Sylar, with Gretchen, on the right. "Gabr—Oh my God!" He stared horrified for one moment. "No, no, no! Gabriel, come on." He took one step forward but was flung several steps back. Sylar held him fast, pinned to the wall by ability alone.

Sylar focused his ability entirely on Peter while physically handling Gretchen. She was a small girl compared to his tall stature, easily overpowered by brute strength alone. He pulled her even closer so he could whisper in his ear. "I'm not going to hurt you. I just want Claire to suffer right now. Don't worry." He slipped his hand down farther, entering her pants below the belt.

"No! Oh, God," Gretchen shuddered under his touch. "Oh, God! Claire, please hurry."

"Believe me, she will."

"Gabriel! Let her go! This is between you & Claire, not Gretch—" Peter was cut off by a shrill voice.

"What are you doing?" Claire screamed at Sylar the moment she returned & saw what he was doing with one hand. "I said don't touch her!"

"Is that a proper wallet now?" Sylar asked unperturbed.

"Here! Take it!" She hurled it at him with all the hate & rage from hell itself.

Sylar held onto Gretchen with one strong arm & caught the wallet with same hand he touched her with. Peter slid down the wall as the pressure was slowly released. "Good!" Sylar clenched his teeth again. "Don't cancel anything or I'll really—really!—make you miserable!"

Sylar & Claire stared each other down. Claire didn't give in. She wouldn't beg. She wouldn't give that monster what he wanted. She moved her eyes only for a second to check on Gretchen who was crying as softly as possible, still held fast in Sylar's arms.

"Here, take her," Sylar tossed Gretchen at Claire's feet.

Claire caught her. "How dare you hurt her!"

"I didn't hurt her," Sylar defended. "I just had a little fun, is all!"

"You & I have very different ideas of fun, Sylar!" Claire glowered.

"Actually, I think we have very similar ideas," Sylar held up the hand that had touched Gretchen. "I felt her. She was good! I can understand your attraction to h—"

Claire screamed in rage, lunging herself at Sylar's throat. She hit an invisible force not five inches from him. Sylar held that hand up a little higher, telekinetically pushing her back. "You brought this on yourself, you wicked wench!" He snarled. "I wouldn't have come in here. I was only here for Peter. You're the one who came outside. You're the one who flipped Buell. You're the one who got Gretchen hurt & you dare call yourself her friend or even lover!"

"Shut up. Shut up! Shut UP!" Claire bellowed, incensed by the pressure against her, keeping Sylar just barely out of her reach. She could almost feel his flesh under her nails. Almost. "She's my girlfriend. Not yours! Just shut up!"

"Oh, but for how long, Claire?" Sylar seethed. "You're nothing more than a pair of useless college girls experimenting. What are you going to do when she looks as old as your great great—times how many millions of greats—grandmother & you still look like you? Hmm? Think about it!" He shook her hard in the place she was held. "How long will it really last, Claire? You, me, probably Peter. We're stuck with each other for eternity. I've told you this before. Remember? When I asked you to marry me many years ago?"

"That was last year, you creature!" Claire hissed between gritted teeth.

"Twelve years! One year!" Sylar huffed. "It's still a long ti—"

"How can I forget?" Claire interrupted him. "You killed my real father that day!"

"Oh! I'm sorry!" Sylar scoffed sarcastically. "Nothing I could do about it back then. That was my Hunger taking over. Again!" He added. "You know how my power works. Peter has the same thing."

"Peter hasn't killed with it."

"How would you know?" Sylar retorted.

"I'll get you for this!"

"Me? No, no, no. It's all your fault." Sylar dropped Claire at last next to Gretchen & held up the wallet a moment, giving it a shake. "You're the one who started this. You're the one to blame. Now you're going to pay for it." He turned to leave, ignoring Peter as he finally managed to stand. Once at the door, Sylar turned back. "Don't worry, Claire. I'll only spend what is needed for Buell. Not like I plan a shopping spree or anything."

"I don't care," Claire huffed angrily into Gretchen's hair. She stroked her head, trying to soothe the shaking girl. "Just take it & go."

"Fine, I'll add some ice cream or peach pie to it then before sending it back," Sylar opened the door. "Maybe both."

"Never come back," Claire cried. "Keep the blasted thing! I don't care! Just leave!"

Sylar whirled onto her. "That was my intention all along! You! You just HAD to come out & ruin everything, didn't you? DIDN'T YOU?"

"I hate you," Claire said quietly, holding back her own tears as best possible.

"You know what? I don't care anymore! You want a war? You got it!" With that, Sylar exited the hotel at last, slamming the door so violently behind him that its glass shattered.

"I'm sorry," Peter finally spoke. "I'm so sorry, he had me pinned. I couldn't help her."

Claire's eyes moved upward until the met Peter's. "And you call that monster a friend?"

Peter inwardly recoiled. He was caught between a rock & a hard place. No, he did not condone what Sylar did to Gretchen. On the other hand, Claire did provoke the man. But then again, it was a tortured dance between Sylar & Claire since what seemed like so many years ago by now & he often seemed to get caught in the middle. Who was really to blame? "Claire, that man has been on his best behavior for the past twelve years from our point of view! I don't like what he did just now, but...but he does have a point. You did go out there. Claire, why did you do that? Why? You know how he was!" Peter's voice was getting higher with every line. "You know he's been trying to go straight for a long time! I've told you that! He doesn't even stalk you around anymore! You just had to ruin it! You had to push that man over the edge once more, didn't you?"

"Fine, leave!" Claire raged at him, standing up sharply. Gretchen kneeled over at her feet. "Take his side! I hate you both!" She turned to her friend, pretending not to notice the pained look on her uncle's face or the hurt gasp. "Come on, Gretchen. We're going upstairs." She helped the sobbing girl up & held her close as they climbed the stairs.

"Claire," Peter whispered so that she wouldn't hear. He bit into his lip, now fighting back his own tears. "Oh, God help me!" He cried to himself before huffing under breath, "Gabriel." He stalked out the door after Sylar.

There was a piece of Buell that was almost arm's length right in the road. Sylar paused to pick up the shiny metal. Then he raised his eyes a bit until the fallen Buell was in sight. He stalked over, half using his power to lift the wreck, half physically grabbing it as well. "Claire, you—oh! Ridiculo—what a mess! Stupid girl. Stupid, stupid girl!" He raised his voice a little louder, shouting back towards the hotel. "You're going to regret this!" Accidentally, he added the sonic scream to it & sent Peter flying back the way he had come. Sylar let out an audible groan before calling, "Sorry! Didn't really think about that one."

Peter raised a hand off the ground to wave it away. "No...no problem!" He picked himself up once more & tried again. "I get it," he started, once he was by Sylar's side again. "You're mad. You're pissed. I get it."

"Thank you!" Sylar huffed, slinking around his precious bike to pick up more pieces. He steadied her with one hand.

"I really do get it," Peter said again.

"You're point, Petrelli? I'm not in a mood right now!"

"What the hell were you doing to Gretchen?" Peter demanded. "What, you're planning to switch from ex-murderer to a full-blown pervert?"

"Oh, give me some sense of dignity today!" Sylar snarled low & dangerous. "I'm retired, not ex & I barely touched Gretchen!"

Peter blinked at the word 'retired' but decided to figure that one out later. A girl's virtue was a bit more important right now. "You had your hand all down in her pants!"

"No I didn't," Sylar defended. "I only made it look bad to get back at Claire. I barely went down below that hairline!"

Peter smacked himself in the face with one hand. How did he get into this mess in the first place? "That's close enough. Plus you grabbed at her breasts & had your tongue down her throat. What the hell where you thinking?"

"First of all," Sylar stood up sharply, another bit of Buell in one hand. He let the bike lean against his hip. "I did not stick my tongue down that girl's throat! Secondly, I wasn't into Gretchen. I just wanted to—"

Sylar & Peter spoke at the same time. "Get back at Claire."

"Yes!" Sylar glared.

"I got it!" Peter threw his hands in the air for a moment. "Payback for Buell."

"Exactly," Sylar laid any & all bigger pieces of the bike across her seat & gently tested it to see how well it would roll. The back wheel wobbled ominously. Sylar stopped & huffed again, frustrated with everything. "Where's the nearest bike ship in this wretched city? I can't believe I'm stuck in the same place as that woman for my whole damn weekend!" With that, he shoved passed without waiting for answer, Buell's wheel squeaking along pitifully.

"Follow me why don't you?" Peter grumbled sarcastically as he ended up following Sylar instead. "Don't think you can get away with this! I'm not finished with you! Hey, are you listening?"

"Not really," Sylar called over his shoulder. He didn't have to look back to know that he was getting the classic 'Pissed Petrelli' glare right at that moment. He heard the start of it. Peter's audible sharp exhale. Next would be a cold, hard stare with eyes desperately wanting to roll in exasperation. Meanwhile, Peter's lips would most definitely purse into a scowl. If Sylar was lucky, he'd probably get a little foot stamp along with the 'hands-on-hip' pose. He kept walking, urging Buell to hold together beside him.

* * *

"Gretchen, here," Claire swept away the cluttered pillow with one arm & helped her friend sit down. "Gretchen, are you alright?" Gretchen weakly sat down & then leaned forward until her head was between her knees. "I'm so sorry! Oh, that man is such a monster. I hate him! Did he hurt you?"

"No," Gretchen shook her head. "No, he just touched. Barely. He didn't go that far down."

"He went down far enough!" Claire stood up quickly & headed for the washroom. Gretchen stayed on the bed, rubbing her temples with her fingertips. She heard the bath taps suddenly turn on before Claire reappeared. "I have a bath going for you. It'll help you relax. Come here." She sat down beside Gretchen & wrapped one arm around her shoulders. "We got lucky! Sylar is capable of far worse horrors than what he just did."

Gretchen laid her head on Claire's breast & sighed heavily. She felt strange. Despite what Sylar did to her, she didn't seem to care anymore. Gretchen held one hand out & watched it before pulling it back to herself. She wasn't shaking anymore. She felt nothing. Numb perhaps? No, it was something else. Gretchen sat up straight, pulling away from Claire. She stared at her with big doe eyes, wondering just what was going on in that pretty blonde head.

"What?" Claire let out a nervous laugh.

"He asked you...to marry him?"

"Eh, that was a while ago," Claire shrugged it off.

"Just what all is going on between you two?"

Claire froze & stared back. "What? Nothing! No!"

"Claire!"

"No!" Claire exclaimed again. "Gretchen, this is Sylar we're talking about here, remember? He's got one hell of a sick, twisted mind! Just...no!"

"Why are you trying to convince me?"

"What?" Claire blinked in disbelief. "You asked. I answered."

"Answered many times," Gretchen said. "Why did you go down there?"

"Go down there?" Claire echoed.

"If you had stayed here with me, this wouldn't have happened?"

Claire open & closed her mouth several times, looking like a goldfish. "I-I-wha...?"

"You can't answer that?" Gretchen crossed her arms, sitting up a bit straighter. "Claire, both Peter & Sylar had a point. You did go down there & flip that bike! I watched you do it from this very window. Why did you ever bother to go near him? You do...hate Sylar, right?"

"Yes! Vehemently!" Claire insisted. "I want that man dead. Soon as possible!"

"Then why provoke him?"

"You—you're blaming me...for this?"

Gretchen 'tsk-ed' & glanced at the floor. "Um, why is the carpet wet?"

"Huh?" Claire continued staring at her. "What?" She glanced around. "Oh no! I forgot the tub!" Claire hurried to shut off the water. It lapped over the sides while the upper drain tried to draw in as much water as possible. Claire pulled the plug a bit to let it out faster.

"I'm not blaming you for anything," Gretchen said as she stood in the doorway. "It's just...the more I learn about Sylar, the more twisted everything gets."

"Yes, yes!" Claire nodded her head. "That is exactly what he likes. Just forget whatever he said down there."

"I would if it weren't for that one thing."

"And what is that, my dear?" Claire gritted her teeth.

"Sylar does have a point," Gretchen explained. "What are we going to do in fifty years? Or one hundred? Time has no effect on you; but eventually, it will turn me into nothing but dust of the Earth in a dark, silent grave."

Claire stepped up to Gretchen & started stripping her down for the tub. "Gretchen, you're my friend. That isn't going to change no matter what. Whenever you die, which I hope is a long time from now, yes it'll hurt. Just like when my family dies eventually & any other friend I make. That's a fact of life whether one's immortal or not. That's what friends are for."

"Claire," Gretchen stepped into the water & sunk down. "I have a little confession to make."

"What's that?" Claire asked absent-mindedly as she started applying a wet cloth to Gretchen's back.

"I didn't bring you here to be just only a friend," Gretchen said. Claire stopped washing. "I was kind of hoping to...you know...get lucky." The cloth landed in the water with a loud plop. "Don't worry, I wouldn't have forced you or anything but...I was planning to ask about it tonight. Just ask, really. That's all."

Claire landed hard on the floor, partly cross-legged. "Whoa!"

"Now I'm way to confused," Gretchen folded her hands on the edge & rested her chin on top. "No, definitely not ready for this any time soon."

"What? Why?" Claire asked. "Because of Sylar? Again? Don't let him ruin your life or mine!"

"I won't, I promise," said Gretchen. "But we really need to think things through here, ok?"

"You know what? I'm getting in there with you so move over!" Claire started to undress.

"No, you're not," Gretchen said. "Just wait a bit. Maybe next weekend." She slipped back into the water, laying the full length of the tub. Claire tossed her boots aside with a clatter & sighed.

Claire tried to bring up the subject again more than once through out the evening but Gretchen didn't want to discuss it further right away. By mid-morning the next day, Gretchen had managed to turn the conversation to their shopping spree as she drove them back. She kept the conversation light & Claire decided not to mention Sylar again until Gretchen was ready to talk. Gretchen turned onto the road that led back to their college.

Whatever happened next, Gretchen would never find out. There was an ear splitting scrapping of metal on metal as two other cars rammed into hers, one from either side. Gretchen tried to keep the wheel straight but her car was sent into a 360 spin as one oncoming vehicle finally managed to swerve away. The second vehicle struck again, flipping her car over.

Gretchen shook herself hard. After checking on Claire, she realized that they were both upside-down. A pair of hands entered the window next to Claire & cut away the belt. Gretchen felt someone do something similar to her.

Claire locked eyes with Gretchen for a fraction of a second. "If you get the chance...run!" Then she was gone.

"Claire!" Gretchen barely remembered screaming before she knew no more.


	4. Chapter 4

Sorry for skipping last week. I had a very bizarre week at work that included everything from a street fight in front of the store which I was main witness of, to cops (about said fight) to a freakin' black bear CUB trying to get into the back door of the store! Walked right into the damn thing! No idea where the mom was! Anyway needless to say, I needed time to recover lolol

Also sorry that this is a little short. Besides the crazy last week, I am now stuck with a few feet of snow to shovel away with no signs of stopping. Ah, the joys of living in the Canadian outback.

ANYway...on with the show:

* * *

**(4) Broken**

**Luke Campbell, Newark NJ**

"Mom, I gotta go!" Luke bounded down the stairs. "I'll be late for my flight." He was halfway out the door.

"Luke Campbell!" Mary called. "Be sure to call me the moment you arrive."

"Yes, Mom," Luke muttered.

"Stick with the group," Mary ordered.

"Mom," Luke whined. "You know I can take care of myself."

"Don't talk back to me," said Mary. "And don't you go around using that power of yours either. Just stay with your friends."

"Whatever," Luke finally made his escape. He ran to the waiting taxicab. Once he was settled into the back seat & the cab had been rolling along for a few minutes, he opened his phone & dialed. After a moment, Luke said, "I'm in."

"Alright," said someone on the other end of the phone. "I'm in LA right now."

"Cool," Luke opened his lunch bag, looking for a nibble. "I'll be there in about five hours."

"How'd you get away?"

"Micah, how do I always get away?" Luke asked rhetorically.

"Aren't you worried your mom will ever find out?"

"Not really," Luke shrugged. "She thinks I'm gone camping up-state with friends for the weekend"

"Well, you know," Micah started. "I'm always looking for new members for the Rebel Team. Abigail's married now. Sparrow is gone to some sort of Powwow or whatever. It's just West & me right now. You could join us someday, full time."

"I kind of hope to," said Luke. "What do you need me for this time?"

"A friend of mine I've been communicating with over the past couple of weeks just disappeared," Micah explained. "She's a game designer. I found her a while ago through the computer network."

"Any ability?"

"Telepathy, I think," said Micah. "Some sort of Mind Warp. Last I heard from her, she was in LA near the airport, then she just disappeared. I'm going to try picking up her trail while you get here."

"Alright, see you later."

* * *

**Micah, L.A.**

Micah shoved one long curl out of his eyes & hefted his bag a little higher on his shoulders. Cell phone still in hand, he ducked into a small convenience store around the corner from the LA International Airport. He waited a few minutes until the girl behind the counter stepped into the back for a moment & then hurried over. He got in behind the counter & put a hand on the computer on the side opposite from the till. Holding his phone in the other hand, Micah waited a few moments for any information to download. When images from common street cameras to the security cameras inside the airport had flooded into his phone, he snapped it shut & turned to leave.

There was a young man waiting to be served. "Hi, I'd like to buy some cigarettes, please?"

"Uh, I don't work here."

There was a long, awkward moment of silence. "Then what are you doing back there?" The man frowned at him. Micah flashed a sheepish smile & then bolted for it. "Hey. Hey!" The man yelped. "Thieving brat! Get back here. Miss? That boy was behind your counter!"

Micah fled the scene like a frightened rabbit. He ducked into an alley way & then dashed across the next two or three streets, before bursting into a coffee shop. To be more inconspicuous, Micah ordered a black coffee & made for the farthest lonely table in a corner. There, he opened his phone once more & ordered it to scan for images of his friend, matched against her face book pictures. He soon found part of her trail. She had been near the airport; though, a street camera had picked up a black truck that had taken her. Micah was about to download images that followed the truck when he was interrupted by a tap on his shoulder. "Hi," Micah muttered, looking up.

"Hi," said a fat balding man dressed in a suit. He grabbed Micah's arm. "You're coming with me."

"Wait," Micah grabbed his phone & laptop at the same time & in a nanosecond, ordered both to send out messages to Luke & West.

"No, you're leaving those behind," the man pushed both machines hard & they fell to the floor, breaking on impact. Micah hoped the messages had been sent out in time. As he was dragged along, Micah glanced around, hoping to find landmarks for his position. Maybe when he got hold of another computer or something similar, he could send out a more detailed message. His captor started talking on the phone & Micah watched, hoping for a chance to grab at it. "Yes, I have just the thing that will hold the little menace."

"Let go," Micah tried to shake the man off.

"Nope! You're going in here!" He hoisted the boy up & tossed him into a cage inside his van. He snapped the padlock shut. "There, no machines to help you out this time, Mr. Sanders." Micah sat back in one corner, folding his arms & glared. "You're the one that's been warning the Specials for a while now, aren't you? We'll have no more of that!" With that, the man got into the driver's seat & started away.

* * *

**West Rosen, the sky**

West floated through the blue sky, glancing down several thousand feet towards the equally blue water of the Great Lakes wrapped part way around Michigan He felt his phone vibrate under his jacket but ignored it. Persistently, it vibrated again every two minutes. West sighed heavily & finally checked it. It was a message from Micah.

"West. Luke. Help! LA Airport. Coffee shop."

After a minute, the same message would show up again.

"On my way," West text-answered the first message. Then he shoved the thing away & changed his direction from going back to NYC to head for LA instead. After a few hours, he touched down in a park near the beach & flopped down next to a tree to rest from his long flight. Checking his phone again, he noticed that the same message was still cycling around but nothing new had come in from Micah. "Strange. You should've gotten to a computer by now." He found another message from Luke.

"Meet me at the LA Airport. Something's wrong with Micah."

West stretched out as far as possible in every direction before standing up. He took off once more & soon located Luke Campbell waiting for him just outside the lobby's door. West landed a ways off so no one would see him & walked up. "It's about time we meet," He said once he stood face to face with Luke. "Micah's been talking about you for awhile."

"I know," said Luke. "He's been droppings hints about join you all for good ever since he heard about my ability."

"Your...microwaves?"

"Yeah," Luke aimed for the metal frame around the door & burned a little off. "I used it to warm up my lunch in a park once a few weeks ago."

"Out in public?"

"I've done it before," Luke shrugged. "Besides ever since that girl threw herself off the Ferris Wheel, what's the point in hiding?"

"Just don't mention my name," West said shortly. "I like my privacy."

"No problem," Luke held up his hands in surrender. "Do you understand what Micah's message means?"

"No," said West. "He sent it in a loop & that's the last I ever heard from him."

"I've checked around inside here," said Luke. "but no one's seen him."

"He didn't say much," West mused. "Like he was in a hurry."

"He was looking for someone," Luke went on. "Some friend of his disappeared."

"Now he's disappeared," said West. "Might be the same people. I'll fly around & look for a coffee shop. Maybe there's one close by."

"Alright," Luke nodded, following West until they reached a more private location just outside the airports boundary. Luke waited until West returned to lead him down a few streets. They soon found the place & entered.

"There," West pointed to the back table.

"This is Micah's bag, I think," Luke picked it up & poked through it. He found Micah's wallet in the front pouch.

"There's pieces of a phone here," West picked up a few black slivers & part of a cell phone keypad from under the table. "Broken. Maybe that's why the message got stuck in a loop."

"Looks like there was a bit of a struggle," Luke picked up a much larger black chard. "Um, this seems a little big for a mere cell phone."

"Where's the laptop?" West grabbed the bag & searched through it. "Not here," He pushed the bag away after a moment. "They must have broken that to."

"Whoever did this, didn't leave much," Luke said, putting a hand around the coffee cop. "West? This is still warm, not hot. But it's recent."

West glanced around & then marched for the door. Luke scooped up Micah's bag & tried to keep up. "Don't use that power," was all West said as he hurried even faster, trying to keep at a walk.

"Something wrong?" Luke asked, somewhat behind him.

West turned the corner & then suddenly ducked behind a parked car. "Right there," he pointed after a moment. Crouched beside him, Luke raised his head a little to look over West's shoulder. He saw a black sedan round the corner & drive by. "I knew it," West muttered. "We're being followed. This is why I don't want people knowing about me."

"I could melt the tires," Luke offered.

"No!" West ordered. "That would attract even more attention. Don't use your power if you don't have to, especially in these days after Claire exposed herself."

"You sound like another friend of mine," Luke said. "Claire? You know that girl?"

"Yeah, we went to the same school for a while," said West, leading back the way they had come. Once he found another place out of sight in a small alley, he stopped. "Look, I'll fly along & follow that truck. Keep your phone handy. I'll lead you that way."

* * *

**Hiro/Ando/Kimiko in Tokyo, Japan**

**(Any dialog for Hiro et al in **_**'italics'**_** is to be read as Japanese. Straight is English.)**

"Ando. Ando!" Hiro called out. _"You're not ready yet?"_

"_Yes, yes I am,"_ Ando half-bowed his head once or twice, trying to make his tie work.

Hiro stepped up to help him. _"Kimiko has been ready for almost an hour. I'm beginning to wonder if I'll ever walk her down the aisle."_

"_I'm coming. I'm com—AH! Too tight! Too tight!"_

Hiro paused a moment to shove his glasses up with one finger. He glared at Ando. _"Stop moving." _

In the nanosecond it took Hiro to prevent Ando from just that, Ando's eyes opened wide just as Hiro froze time. The result was a rather peculiar look stuck on Ando's face. Hiro huffed a little & attempted to finish the job. After five more minutes, he was finally satisfied with his friend's suit. He stood in front of Ando, smiled approvingly & unfroze time once more.

"_Don't do that!"_ Ando muttered, fidgeting with the knot of tie at his throat.

Hiro smacked his hand away. _"Come, we must go now. We mustn't keep the lady waiting any longer."_ He put one hand on Ando & hauled him along.

The wedding was held outside on the lawn. White lilies were lined along either side of the walkway where the bride would march down. Silk sashes were draped around the small stage at the front & center while chairs formed several rows sweeping back to the door of Hiro & Kimiko's house left to them by their father. Soon, it would only be Hiro's once Kimiko had completely moved over to Ando's home.

Kimiko herself, was dressed in a backless white gown, with lacey sleeves that clung to her soft arms all the way to her wrists. Wide satin shoulder straps covered her shoulders. The neckline took a plunge only to teasingly stop just above the cleavage. She had several small white flowers twisted into her hair that fell freely about her face & shoulders. She stood in front of the long mirror, fussing with one flower near the top of her head. The door opened & she turned around.

"_Is it time now?"_ Kimiko asked as her brother stepped in. Hiro nodded mutely & made ready to lead her down on his arm. She curled hers around his & together they left to meet Ando.

While Kimiko & Ando stood on the red carpet covered platform, exchanging vows, Hiro leaned back in his chair on the front row. They had invited many of their friends from work. Everyone Kimiko knew from Yamagato Industries was there. She had invited just about every girlfriend she had, which were many, in her silent attempt of well, 'taking care of her brother' is what she thought. It was high time to get her baby brother grounded firmly with some woman or other.

Ignorant of his sister's theory for him, Hiro watched the pair while thinking that it would be nice to stay at Yamagato Industries for a while. Now that Ando was finally getting married, the cheerleader saved, Sylar being handled & kept out of the way & no more explosions, Hiro decided it might be time to settle for a while.

Once the ceremony was over, there was a reception inside with plenty of food & drink to last all night. Several guest took their turn at dancing with the bride. Hiro finally rescued her & more or less danced her backwards back to Ando, who shook his head trying not to laugh as he took Kimiko back.

Hiro entered the kitchen to get another bottle of wine from the cupboard. It was then that he noticed his phone lying on the counter right next to the wall. In the hustle & bustle of the past few days catching up to Kimiko's set-in-stone plans for her wedding, Hiro hadn't bothered to check messages. He had only used it for live & frantic conversations of last-minute wedding worries, not to mention several apologies to a furious Kimiko for not being around to help in the beginning.

He picked it up & quickly scanned through. Several were from Matt Parkman, one or two from Noah Bennet & a few Angela Petrelli. All however, bore the same or similar message & most contained video streams as well

Hiro watched one then another in amazement. Then he looked up in surprise. _"Oh, no!"_


	5. Chapter 5

**(5) San Diego Bound**

**Matt Parkman in LA California**

"Ah that's great Molly," Matt was on the phone as he lounged on his couch. "So how's Mohinder?"

"Oh," Molly groaned. "Ever since he came back, he's been all mushy!"

"Mushy?" Matt asked.

"Yeah, he's reunited with his old girlfriend, Mira," Molly went on. "All they ever do is kiss. So gross!"

Matt couldn't help but laugh out loud for a moment. "You just might like it one day."

"It isn't funny."

"Yes it is."

"Is not!"

"Is too!"

"Not!"

"Not."

"I'm not falling for that trick."

"Darn," Matt gave up. "How'd they meet up again?" It was a causal question. He never expected the answer he got.

"Mira was being dragged off by some guy," Molly said as Matt sat up sharply. "Mohinder rescued her."

"What?" Matt exclaimed. "Is he there now?"

"No," said Molly.

"Uh, sweetheart, I gotta go. Talk to you later." After hanging up with her, Matt then dialed another long distance number to India.

"Hello, Dr. Suresh's office?"

"Mohinder," Matt started. "What happened? Molly told me about Mira."

There was a pause. "Someone went after her about my research."

Matt leaned forward a bit. "Mohinder, there's been a few attacks on those with abilities up here ever since the cheerleader threw herself off the Ferris Wheel. Perhaps that guy has something to do with it."

"I don't know," Mohinder said. "I knocked him out but he got away when the police tried to bring him in."

"Try to find him & figure out who he is," said Matt. "I'm working on this end, trying to see who's behind these attacks."

"If I find anything, I'll call you later."

* * *

**Angela Petrelli, NYC**

/Gunshots were fired. Several screams were heard. Angela glanced about & leaned over the railing to look down but the scene changed.

"No. Stop!" Sylar yelled, holding both hands up in defense. With a cry of pain he was flung backwards into the wall. He got up. "I'm not going to let you do this!" He was poised for an attack.

Angela took a few steps back from him, wishing he would leave her dreams alone.

Noah Bennet was falling freely but from what, Angela didn't see. Neither did she see how far he fell.

Sylar was in a cell as if visiting someone. He looked angry.

Next, she saw part of someone's head on the floor, scalp off. Sylar had killed again though she didn't see the face.

Various dark-colored plants rose from murky depths. Someone needed air now. The pressure on the lungs was overwhelming./

With a gasping yelp, Angela sat straight up in bed. This was the craziest dream yet. Knowing she wouldn't sleep the rest of the night, she got up, made some tea & sat on her comfy armchair. What had Peter gotten himself into, making friends with that man? Angela didn't need a dream to know that Sylar would strike again someday. Why bother dreaming about it now? If only it had shown her who it was. She knew it wasn't Peter. The hair wasn't right. Long & grey not short & black.

She sat up a little straighter in her chair as she recalled the last part of the dream. She somehow knew that it had happened at almost the same time she had dreamed it though who it was, or where, she didn't know. Sylar may have killed already, but drowning someone wasn't his style. Something wasn't quite right. She wished the dream had continued just a bit farther but the panicked need for air had roused her.

Angela sighed heavily, thinking about Peter once more. Perhaps he would know what his...friend...was currently up to. Either way, it was best to separate those two before any more damage could be done. Nothing involving Sylar could possibly be good. She picked up the phone & called her only son.

* * *

**Luke Campbell, LA**

"West! Get out of he—" Luke suddenly yelled in pain as a sharp needle struck the back of his leg. He yanked the dart out & tried to run but his leg went numb.

West ran away, darting around the corner of one building out of sight. He took to the air before anyone could come after him. From his vantage point, West was able to watch as Luke was cornered, grabbed & tossed into a black van. He followed from above, hoping they would lead to Micah as well.

The van headed into the outskirts of L.A. & into on old industrial park. West watched as two men hauled Luke's limp body into one building. He flitted around & behind to a window & after a small shove, the old pane gave way. West remained out of sight for a few minutes just in case the noise attracted attention, then lifted himself inside.

The place was empty except for a few piles of metal railings on one side. It was large dim space. At the far end was an elevator door. West hurried towards it & pressed the button. The door opened almost immediately. He stepped inside for a moment to check how many levels down it would go but only saw one button. Glancing into the area outside once more, West saw another door off to the side that led to the stairs. He smiled a moment as an idea hit him. Then he pressed the down button on the elevator & dashed out to take the shorter way down. The moving elevator would hopefully distract whoever was down below just long enough for him to slip inside & hide.

* * *

**Tracy Strauss, Savannah GA**

"Ricky? I'm back!" Tracy called as she opened the door & stepped inside. "Ricky?"

"Oh, it's you," Ricky said as he came into view. "Hi."

"Hi," Tracy closed the door. "What, were you expecting someone?"

"Kind of," Ricky shrugged his shoulders. "We got a message from Rebel a few days ago, saying that someone would be coming here." He sighed before going on. "But no one has shown up & Rebel hasn't sent anything new."

"Micah," Tracy murmured to herself. What has her nephew gotten himself into this time? "Did he say who?"

"Some young lady by the name of Jessica Havok, a games designer," said Ricky. "She has some sort of telepathy or mind warp or whatever. The last we heard, Rebel was in L.A. looking for her."

Tracy headed for the kitchen to make some tea. "That would be nice to have another one here at our 'Specials Training Facility'. What with the Carnival gone & Claire exposing us all, people like us will need some place of refuge."

"Do you think we won't be accepted into the world?" Ricky asked.

"After what happened to Jeremy?" Tracy shot back rhetorically. "Besides that, the worst murderer the universe has seen yet is one of us. Non-Specials have every reason to fear us. That would be Ok if it were left at that. But fear makes people do strange things."

"The...er...common folk rarely have problems with Sylar," Ricky pointed out. "He mostly hunts us, not them."

"Hmpf!" Tracy scoffed. "Let's just hope he never finds out about this place. When was the last time you got anything from Rebel?"

"A few days ago," said Ricky. "I've tried sending a message back but there has been no answer yet."

"That's not like him at all," Tracy thought a moment before going on. "Matt Parkman's a detective in L.A. I'll call him & see if he can find out what's going on."

* * *

"Luke?" Micah whispered hoarsely. "Luke, wake up!" He reached through the railings dividing his cage from Luke's & grabbed hold of his collar. "Luke!" Micah hissed under breath, giving the collar a yank.

Luke muttered incoherently, slowly moving his head away from Micah's scrabbling hands. "Where are we?" he asked groggily.

"Not too sure," Micah kept his voice low. "Do you have a phone or something on you? They took mine away."

"No," Luke pulled himself into a sitting position. "Where's West?"

"West was with you?" Micah asked. "I haven't seen him."

"They got me in the leg with a tranquilizer dart," Luke explained. "I dimly remember shouting at West to go away, now I'm here. I dropped my phone in the street. Sorry."

"Oh well," Micah sat against the railings so that he & Luke were back to back. "They know I can talk to machines & kept me caged with a simple padlock."

"Maybe I can melt it off in a minute," said Luke. "Soon as I wake up."

"Hurry up," Micah ordered. "They've been keeping you under so you can't do that."

"Great," Luke complained. He tried to focus on the locked doors in front of him, raising one hand to burn off a lock.

"Whoa!" Micah skittered out of the way. "Watch were you point that beam of yours!"

"Sorry," Luke mumbled, trying to focus through the sleepy haze. He soon managed to melt a hole somewhere in-between both their doors.

"Good one," Micah wasn't impressed.

"Shut up! I'm trying," Luke huffed. He blinked several times & rubbed his eyes. Then he tried again. This time, Micah's lock melted down. Luke then worked on his own. The two of them glanced around but saw no one, before stepping out at last.

Ahead, they heard voices of two or three men exclaiming about something. Micah tugged Luke in the opposite direction & led him to a few crates to hide behind. Micah stole another glance around the crates, then settled back next to Luke. "I just saw the elevator doors close. That's probably what distracted them."

"We better find another way out of here in the meantime then," said Luke.

"You, boy! Freeze!" one man suddenly yelped.

Micah & Luke exchanged worried glances. Who had seen them? They heard someone else cry out. Then running footsteps were heard before a tazer went off. Whoever they were chasing yelled in pain before falling to the ground.

Luke took a chance to look around one corner of a crate. "Micah, it's West! They got him."

"How did you get in here?" the man who shot him demanded.

"I-I-I live here," West stammered, making Luke & Micah look at each other in confusion. "Who are you?"

"Mr. Daniels," was the reply. "What do you mean, you live here?"

"That's what I mean," West shrugged.

"What's your power?" Mr. Daniels demanded.

"My...power?" West continued to play dumb.

"Ability, boy. Ability!"

"I...can be...annoying?"

"You've come here to rescue your friends," Mr. Daniels accused. "Now you can join them."

"I don't have any ability," West went on. "I ran away from home a few days ago & I've been living here ever since."

"Wow, he really doesn't like people knowing about him, does he?" Luke whispered to Micah.

"He has good reason," Micah shrugged as the sound of the tazer & another yelp from West filled the air.

"What can you do?" Mr. Daniels went on.

"Nothing!" West cried out.

Mr. Daniels nodded to his two friends. They came over & grabbed West to hold him up. "You'll show me even if I have to beat it out of you."

"We have to do something!" Luke gasped as blows landed on West's body.

"I swear I can't do anything!" West stubbornly continued.

Micah stood up & saw the group in the center of the floor. West was bleeding from his nose & mouth. The two that were holding him let him go & he fell to his news. "Fly, damn it," Micah hissed under breath. "Fly away."

"He'd rather die," said Luke. He suddenly jumped onto the top crate & aimed for something on the ceiling. Micah watched as Luke melted several pulleys & chains hanging from above until they fell over the group. Luke ran forward with Micah close behind to pull West from the rubble.

"Let's get out of here!" Micah draped one of West's arm over his shoulder while Luke took the other side.

"Stairs...that way," West nodded weakly in the direction. The three of them hurried as fast as possible while Mr. Daniels & his two companions tried to sort themselves out from the entangled chains, wires & hot melting metal.

Micah pulled the other two along outside towards the parked vans. He let Luke support West while he opened the driver's door & got inside. After a quick look, he pulled out. "Wrong one," Micah muttered. "My backpack would be in the one I was in." He stepped up to the next van & got in. Sure enough, the pack had been thrown haphazardly on the back seat. Micah pulled it over to him before searching the van for something else. After rummaging around for a few minutes, he found what he was looking for. A cell phone! He held it almost lovingly in his hands, relieved to finally have an escape route & told the thing to get the car started. "Get in the back."

Luke helped West up & then climbed in beside him as the van started. "Uh, Micah? Do you know how to drive?"

"Not really," Micah shoved the stick into some sort of gear or other & slammed the pedal.

"AHHHH!" Luke & West screamed as the van shot wildly backgrounds over the uneven ground.

"Sorry!" Micah laughed wickedly, black curls bouncing wildly, as he changed gears again into a (hopefully) forward & steady position. Again he floored the pedal & the metallic monster on wheels all but flew down the road back towards L.A.

Luke swallowed nervously. "He's a menace!" West only whimpered an agreement.

After half an hour, Luke & West finally relaxed as Micah settled into a smooth speed. They pulled themselves into the front seat beside him. Luke opened the glove compartment to look for something for West's face. He found several folded napkins & handed one over. West licked at one corner to wet it & started wiping down his face.

"We should go to a motel for the night," Micah suddenly spoke. "We need to stick together & get you cleaned up properly."

"Oh, I'm fine," West said. "Mostly some bruises. Anyway, what did those guys want with us? They could have killed you."

"But they didn't," Micah said. "They mostly wanted me. Something about stopping me from warning other Specials about people like them. Besides, thanks to you, we have a name now. As soon as we settle somewhere, I'll look it up. It might lead us to my friend."

"What's up with this girl anyway?" Luke asked.

"She has some sort of mind power she recently discovered," Micah explained. "I was trying to get her to go to Aunt Tracy's 'Specials Training Facility' over in Savannah, but then I lost contact with her. Mr. Daniels probably has her."

"But why?" West & Luke asked at the same time.

"That I don't know," Micah shook his head, pulling onto the side of the road. "Yet." He added.

"What are you doing?" West asked.

"We don't need the van anymore," said Micah. "There's a motel about a half hour's walk from here."

"They'll track this van," Luke picked up the idea as the three of them got out.

"What van?" Micah asked pointedly, raising an eyebrow at Luke.

After a moment, Luke suddenly gasped. "Oh, that's big! I've never tried something big like that before."

"Now's your chance," Micah said, pulling his backpack off the seat. He looked in & sighed dejectedly. "They left me my old comics & the medals but my laptop & phone are gone."

"Stand back," Luke said. "I'll boil the gas tank until it explodes." The three of them stood well away. Luke focused his energy under the hood & soon, there was a deafening bang as the truck burst into flames.

* * *

"Alright, Tracy. I'll see what I can do," Matt Parkman hung up the phone. He stepped up to the playpen & patted Matty's head. "Honey? I gotta go out for a bit. I might be late for supper."

"Do you really have to go out at this time?"

"I'll try not to be long," said Matt. "Just something came up at work. I'll try & pass it off to Mike as soon as possible."

Janice laughed at that. "Well the sooner you go, the sooner you'll be back then."

Matt barely made it to the office in time, just as Mike was leaving. "Can you give me a minute?" he asked.

"What's up, Matt?" Mike stepped into a side room. "Hurry up or I'm going to be late for dinner."

"So will I," Matt laughed. "Here," he handed over a picture of Micah. "This is the nephew of a friend of mine. His name is Micah Saunders. He hasn't been heard from in a couple of days now. Tracy said his last known position was around here in L.A. somewhere."

"Does this have something to do with that girl jumping from the Ferris Wheel?" Mike asked.

"I hope not," Matt said. "But ever since Claire exposed...people like me...we are more at risk now. Hardly any of us are too happy with what she did."

"Hmm," Mike glanced at the picture again. "So, what does this kid…uh...do?"

"Talk to machines."

"Talk to...machines," Mike repeated, still trying to wrap his head around the idea of people with powers beyond the telepathy he was used to by Matt Parkman.

"Yeah," Matt nodded. "It's similar to what I can do, only to machines, not people. 'techno-pathy' not telepathy."

"I see," Mike sighed. "Do you have any idea how dangerous a power like that can be for national security?"

Matt took a step back. "Yes, but Micah isn't like that. He uses his powers to keep tabs on the rest of us."

"Not like that right now," Mike mused.

"Are you going to help me or not?" Matt snapped.

"Oh, I'll help you," Mike said, dead serious. "You'd only use your power to make me think I was willing anyway, so I might as well be willing to begin with."

Matt glared at him. "I hope not. It doesn't have to come to that."

Mike then burst out laughing. "Had you going for a second, didn't I?"

Matt groaned, his shoulders slouching. "Look, I want to get a search out for him as soon as possible. If he falls into the wrong hands, then yes, someone could force him to expose us."

"Alright, I'll get a team from the night shift sent out," Mike said. "L. A. is a big place so be here first thing in the morning."

"Thanks," Matt visibly relaxed. He had hoped that Mike would get used to the idea of others like himself being in the world & was glad when he seemed to be handling it well.

* * *

It was late at night & Micah still sat at the computer in the room they had rented. He had swiped more money from some random ATM earlier that evening to pay for the room. Now as Luke & West lay in a pile on the bed, sleeping, Micah sifted through cyber-space looking through anything remotely related to their captors.

He had gone through most of the open Internet within the hour. Now, he had been digging around in more secure locations, easily by-passing encrypted codes to look through more secret files.

He knew what Mr. Daniels looked like but had no picture available to compare with whatever was online which made his search a bit difficult. There was literally thousands of Mr. Daniels in the world; five of them were located in L.A. alone. Digging around for their pictures though, proved useless, as once one would come up, it didn't match the person he saw. So Micah pushed outward, radiating from L.A. to find the one he was looking for.

He had tried contacting the GPS system on the second van that Mr. Daniels would have been sure to use but it had been deactivated. Neither did any telltale road cameras pick him up. Micah grumbled impatiently to himself. This man was good. Too good. Mr. Daniels knew too much about him, at least enough to dodge him even though the whole world could open at Micah's simple touch if he wanted to. Micah didn't like it. If there were someone out there who could block him, it would be devastating to the Rebel Team.

Micah was about to give up for the night when he finally found him. There! San Diego. Micah contacted the man's personal computer. Mr. Arlin Daniels had a manor down there. A single man. His two friends were Shawn Williams & Jason Daniels, a one & only son. Micah looked around for anything prevalent to Rebel's safety but found nothing. It wasn't that much of a problem. The man was wise to keep things off his own computer. Micah decided to move Rebel Team to San Diego in the morning for further study. He sat back & released the keyboard, breaking his connection.

Micah stared up at the ceiling. The sun was pouring in, lighting up the worry etched on Luke & West's faces. "What?"

"It's almost noon," Luke said. "You've been sleeping for a long time."

"What?" Micah yelped, sitting up. He felt something hot & sticky on his upper lip. Wiping it away, he found some blood on his hands.

"How long did you stay in connection?" West asked.

"Most of the night," Micah stood up. "I guess I over-did it."

"You think?" Luke muttered sarcastically.

"I found the guy," Micah ignored him. "We're going to San Diego."

"Mom's gonna kill me," Luke mumbled as he followed the other two out. He ended up ramming West as he in turn, bumped Micah in a domino relay. Just ahead of them stood Matt Parkman.

"Troubles for the Rebels?"

"Not any more," Micah said.

"Your Aunt called me last night, wondering where you were," Matt explained. "Early this morning, someone found what was left of some van out on the road."

"I lost my phone," said Micah. "I didn't get any messages from her."

"No, but you could have sent them," Matt said.

"Actually, no I couldn't," answered Micah. "I wasn't in contact with machines until now."

"Why?"

Micah groaned & glanced back at his friends for help. "I—well, we...uh."

"I'm sure the three of you have very worried families to get back to," Matt went on. "You should contact them. Run along home."

"We can't!" Luke said quickly. "See, uh, well..."

Micah sighed heavily. "If we don't tell him, he'll just read us anyway. Maybe he could help."

"Maybe I could," said Matt. He crossed his arms, waiting.

Micah finally launched into a full explanation of what he was doing. "So I'm just trying to find Jessy & I think that Mr. Daniels has her in San Diego somewhere."

"You guys realize you all could have been killed?" Matt said heatedly. "What were you thinking? Micah, since you've been exposed, you should have known that someone was bound to catch up to you. All of you go home. Now!"

"What about Jessy?" Micah asked.

"Never mind her," Matt shook his head. "I'll deal with it now. I am a cop again. I'll contact the station in San Diego & set it up from there." After a moment, he looked pointedly at Micah. "You don't have to do this alone anymore. Especially since Claire let the world know about us. We have to be more careful now. Understand?"

"Yes, sir," Micah nodded, looking at the ground.

"Come I'll take you guys to the airport & send you all home," Matt started for the car idling on the side of the road.

"I don't need an airport," said West. Matt turned to protest but West was already flying upward.

"Wow, that's a first," Luke watched as West became a tiny dot in the sky.

"There's no need to hide from Matt though," Micah said. "He is one of us after all."

"I guess so," Luke said as the got into the back seat.

Matt drove them to the airport, made sure they got tickets & set them up in the lobby with a word to security to make sure they got on.

* * *

Luke arrived home early that evening & snick in the back way. He didn't find his mother anywhere, so he hurried upstairs to his room. He settled back on his bed, about to read some book when he heard the front door open.

"Luke, are you back yet?"

"Up here, Mom!" Luke left the book on his pillow & meandered his way downstairs.

His mother was just placing several grocery bags on the table. "So how'd your trip go?"

"Oh, it was great!" Luke launched into his story. "We caught fish & went swimming too."

"I expect to see pictures," Mary Campbell said.

"I wish," Luke pouted. "I took lots but some idiot threw my phone in the water."

"Oh, that's to bad," Mary started putting the groceries away.

"I already had something to eat," Luke helped her finish. "I was just about to go to bed. Tired from the trip. Maybe some friends of mine will post some pictures to Facebook later."

"I hope so," Mary said. "Goodnight."

Luke returned to his room & went back to his book for a bit. He was soon fast asleep, book spread out on the floor. The next morning, West was waiting for him, perched on the roof outside his window.

"Did you get the message?" West asked the moment Luke had opened the window.

Luke checked his phone & then looked back at West. "Shall we go help him out?"

"Do we have a choice?" West said with a half-smile. "Stubborn thing, isn't he?"

"Mhm," Luke nodded. "I'll leave a note for Mom. Say I'm on some sort of school trip or something."

He left his phone on the sill until he returned. The message from Micah read plain as day. "Going to San Diego."


	6. Chapter 6

I am so sorry for not updating in so long. First it was the holidays of course, wasn't planning any episodes then but during that time my computer got up to 35 viruses & only just got it fixed now. Fortunately, I keep everything in an email to myself for precisely reasons like this.

ANYway….I hope everything's ok with this stupid computer now.

Hope everyone had a great holiday :)

* * *

_**Previously on Heroes:**_

_Claire: "If you get the chance...run!"_

_Gretchen: "Claire!"_

_Angela: Angela sighed heavily, thinking about Peter once more. Perhaps he would know what his...friend...was currently up to. Either way, it was best to separate those two before any more damage could be done. Nothing involving Sylar could possibly be good. She picked up the phone & called her only son._

_Luke: "Shall we go help him out?"_

_West: "Do we have a choice?" _

_Micah: "Going to San Diego."_

**(6) Into The Dark**

**Luke/West San Diego**

"Micah, where are you?" Luke demanded over the phone. It was late afternoon before either he or West had received further contact from him. Now the day was dark gray in the evening with sheets of rain flowing down. The two of them were currently hurrying down Canon Street, heading towards Point Loma Ave.

"I'm at the Point Loma Community Park, right by Ullman Street," said Micah.

"We're almost there," Luke hung up, rubbed the incessant rain out of his eyes & jogged down the street with West close behind.

Micah was waiting for them at the corner. He was sitting in a small blue car idling on the side of the road. "In here!" he called out as Luke & West started past him. "Get out of the rain."

"How did you get this?" Luke asked warily as he got in the back seat while West sat beside Micah.

"I told the computers at a car rental agency to say I was old enough for one," Micah shrugged his shoulders.

"Good grief," West moaned, worried about Micah's driving skills.

"That's it!" Luke got out, stepped up to the driver's side & open the door. "Out!" Micah glared at him. "What? I'm nearly 18. I have my license. Get out!" He put one hand on Micah's collar & tugged.

"Oh, come on!" Micah muttered a moment before West decided to help Luke by shoving Micah sideways. "Ok, ok!" He begrudgingly took Luke's place in the back seat. "I just need the practice for my road test is all."

"Later," Luke said. "Now, where are we going?"

"Sunset Cliffs," answered Micah shortly. "Mr. Daniels' home is there."

"Fine," Luke pulled onto the road. "What do you plan to do now?"

"I think Jessy's somewhere nearby," Micah said. "Probably at his house. I need to get her to Aunt Tracy's."

"I think he means, HOW do you plan to do that?" West interjected.

"I'm still figuring that out," Micah said, earning glares & eye rolls from his friends.

* * *

**Hiro & Ando, Japan**

**(A few days ago, after the wedding reception.)**

Hiro entered the kitchen to get another bottle of wine from the cupboard. It was then that he noticed his phone lying on the counter right next to the wall. In the hustle & bustle of the past few days catching up to Kimiko's set-in-stone plans for her wedding, Hiro hadn't bothered to check messages. He had only used it for live & frantic conversations of last-minute wedding worries, not to mention several apologies to a furious Kimiko for not being around to help in the beginning.

He picked it up & quickly scanned through. Several were from Matt Parkman, one or two from Noah Bennet & a few Angela Petrelli. All however, bore the same or similar message & most contained video streams as well.

Hiro watched one then another in amazement. Then he looked up in surprise. _"Oh, no!"_

"_What's wrong?"_ Ando asked as he just entered the kitchen.

Hiro shoved his glasses back into position. _"The cheerleader. Her exposer was caught on film. I don't understand who Mr. Bennet hasn't been able to cover it up yet."_

"_Well, someone's bound to find out about us sooner or later," _Ando shrugged. _"I'm not too worried."_

"_Peter Petrelli said it could crack the world," _Hiro explained.

"_Crack the world?"_ Ando laughed. _"How could healing ever crack the world?"_

Hiro stated matter-of-factly, _"Peter Petrelli said that he was once in a future where abilities were known & the world was about to split apart."_

"_Peter Petrelli?"_

"_Yes."_

"_In the future?"_

"_Yes."  
_

"_You do remember I'm supposed to kill you in the future, right?"_

Hiro held up his phone, pointed at it with his free hand. _"I have his messages from him right here! If you don't kill me, the world will kill us all anyway. What difference does it make?"_

Ando half-smiled & shook his head. _"I think you're reading way too much into it. I probably never even killed you. More like faked it, like what you did to me once. Remember, you stabbed me with a toy sword & fake blood?"_

Hiro stopped to think about that for a moment. _"Perhaps."_

"_Hey, you even stabbed Sylar with the real sword. He's still here."_

Hiro glared_. "I still don't know how that happened."_

"_Maybe the blade wasn't sharp enough for him."_

Now Hiro was incensed. He knew Ando was teasing him, ignoring the serious business at hand. "_My Future Self told the Past Petrelli to—"_

"_Save the Cheerleader. Save the world. I know!"_ Ando shrugged. _"Hiro, I'm a married man now. Do you really want me to abandon your sister now? Then the world would REALLY need saving."_

"_Hmm,"_ Hiro was silent as Ando strode past. _"Didn't think of that."_ He suddenly clapped his hand onto his friend's shoulder. _"Very well. Where are we going for the honeymoon?"_

"_WE?"_

"_You have your honeymoon & we can save the world at the same time,"_ Hiro smiled. _"No need to worry Kimiko about that."_ If possible, Ando's eyes opened even wider as Hiro lead him forward.

* * *

**The Rebel Team, LA**

**(present day)**

"Wow, this guy's rich!" Luke exclaimed in a low breath as the three of them parked across the street & back a bit from the house Micah had indicated.

It was a sizable house, at least five bedrooms. It had three floors & a large cement wall around it with an automatic gate. Manicured lawn & gardens could be seen through the iron bars.

"He has cameras everywhere," Micah said, concentrating on his phone. After a moment, he added. "Correction. He HAD cameras everywhere."

"Can you tell the gate to open?" asked Luke.

"Sure, but not right now," Micah said. "He's in there & the gate's in view. We'll have to wait."

"Then what?" asked Luke.

"She's in there, alright," said Micah. "I'm using one camera at a time to work for me. She seems fine enough. As soon as it's safe, we'll try to get into the house & get her out."

They waited in the car for nearly twenty minutes before Micah gave the word to move. It was nearly dark by the time the three of them went through the gate which swung open seemingly by its own accord under Micah's silent command. West flew ahead & soon located a side door leading into the garage. Luke burned away at it until there was a hole where the handle once was.

Once inside, Micah took the lead, one hand on his phone as he concentrated on the cameras to alert him of Mr. Daniels' position as well as find Jessica. "Wait. Stop. Get down." He suddenly disappeared behind the couch with Luke & West following. They watched through the dark shadows of the unlit room as Mr. Daniels passed. "He just left Jessica's room," Micah said once they were alone again. "There's no one else. We should be fine."

"Just so you know," Luke started as they headed down the hall. "When something seems too easy, it usually is."

"All the more reason to get her & get out," Micah turned the corner & stepped up to the first door they came across. He knocked very softly on it. "Jessy? You in there?"

The door opened a bit. "Mr. Daniels? Was there something else?"

"It's me. Micah."

"Micah?" Jessica opened the door all the way. "Get in here! Are you crazy? What? You brought others?"

She opened the door completely to let all three in. It was the first time any of them had actually seen her in person & the first time Luke or West had seen her at all. She had thick black hair with two shiney dark green streaks on one side that fell nearly halfway down her back. Her skin seemed to have a soft tan color & she had deep green eyes that matched the two streaks in her hair. But it was the thick lips Luke noticed first. In fact, he didn't seem to notice much else as he gazed at them like the idiot teen boy he could be in such matters. She seemed to be around 19 or 20 at least.

"They're part of Rebel. It's ok," Micah's voice broke Luke's concentration as Jessica turned the light on once the door was closed. "You disappeared so they helped to find you. This is West & Luke." He nodded to each in turn. "Who is that guy?"

"Arlin? Oh, we met at the university I was working at," Jessica explained. "He was very interested in a game I was working on."

"Game? So he doesn't know about your ability?" Micah asked.

"He did a few days later."

"Claire," West muttered under breath.

"No, before that," said Jessica. "He already knew that people with abilities existed & asked about mine. It's like he somehow knew but...well, I can't read him very well. Right now, I'm fairly new at this myself."

"That's why I was trying to get you to Tracy's," said Micah. "She trains new users how to cope."

"Arlin said that an ability can make anyone dangerous," Jessica went on. "He has been trying to work out how mine will manifest & make sure that it isn't harmful. I only, barely, read minds. Not much I can do yet."

"Jessy, that man knows about me," Micah said. "He had captured Luke & I earlier. Then West. He knows about the Rebel Team. He's trying to dismantle us. He's not happy that I can pretty much warn a Special about people like him, no matter where I am."

"Arlin? Are we talking about the same person here?" Jessica asked in surprised. "He's been nothing but a gentleman to me."

"That's 'cause you're a lady," Luke interjected. "He's probably being all sweet & seductive for you," he went on as Micah & West stared at him. "but he beat West nearly to death trying to figure out his ability."

"Don't exaggerate," West muttered. "He did punch me a few times but I'm fine."

"Oh hush! Arlin wouldn't hurt anyone," Jessica waved it away.

"Jessy, you've got to believe me," Micah pressed. "It was very hard for me to find this guy to begin with. He knows how to block me. I wouldn't be surprised if he has an ability of some sort himself."

"He knew how to take us down," Luke added. "He kept me drugged so I'd be too out of it to do anything."

"What can you do?"

"I'm like a microwave," Luke explained. "I can boil things. If I let it go on long enough, it can get very hot & start melting through metal. I'm not even going to mention pacemakers."

"Pacemakers?" Jessica raised one brow at him.

"I can also warm up your blood," Luke added, a faint hint in his voice. Micah & West turned to stare at him once more, West turning red & if possible, Micah went a darker shade of black in his face.

"Oh! Well, that's, uh, that's nice," Jessica rubbed the back of her head with one hand. Somebody was in love & a puppy was the last thing Jessica needed in her life right now. Making games was hard work & then her ability decided that now was the best time to be found.

"I actually did that to someone once," Luke went on, against Micah & West's silent wishes. "Got a little too hot that they...exploded."

"LUKE!" Micah, West & Jessica all shrieked at once.

"What? It's true," Luke shrugged.

"Uhh, Jessy? We should go to Tracy's & figure things out there," Micah changed the subject before Luke could go on. "I'm telling you, something isn't right. If I'm wrong, I'm wrong & I will personally take you back here. But for now, it might be safer this way."

"How do you plan on getting away?" asked Jessica.

"We have a car across the street & I'm in control of all the cameras in this house right now."

"Good," Jessica nodded. "What about the dogs?"

"Dogs?" Micah glanced around.

"You don't know about the dogs?"

"I'm techno-pathic not beast-pathic or however one might label it if that exists," Micah shrugged. "They didn't show up on camera."

"That's because they're not usually on camera," said Jessica. "They live in the basement & only come out at night. At least, that's the only time I see them. There are four Dobermans & they are very well-trained."

"Do they like trespassers much?" Micah asked meekly.

"Not really," Jessica shook her head. "If we're going to leave, we better leave now. I'll get my coat."

Micah again took the lead, focusing on one camera or another. The group headed down the hall the same way they had come. They were just about to reach the side door to the outside when a low growl interrupted them. A dark shape filled the open door. It lowered its head & growled again. A gleam of white showed through curled back lips.

Jessica stepped forward. "Valefore. Bad girl! Go lie down." Valefore growled again, more loudly than before. "Shut UP Val!" Jessica picked a small bolt off the shelf & threw it at the dog. Valefore barked under breath as she went to sniff.

"How do you know which dog it is in the dark like this?" Micah asked.

"It's easy," said Jessica. "She's the smallest."

Micah gulped & he felt his lips form the word, "Smallest?" He hung back with Luke & West.

"Come on," Jessica motioned them to the door. "Let's go before she calls her friends." As the three of them followed after Jessica, there was suddenly a loud crash of crates falling.

"LUKE!" West, Micah & Jessica snarled through gritted teeth much like Valefore did as she whirled around.

"Sorry!" Luke whispered as if that did any good. He picked one crate out of his way while stepping over another.

"Get over here!" Micah snapped, grabbing Luke by the hand to help haul him through.

"Go away, Val," Jessica slammed the door behind them though it wouldn't stay shut for long since there was no handle on it anymore.

"What's going on down there?" Mr. Daniels called out from a window.

"Uh-oh!" Micah glanced to the gate as it slowly swung open. "Run!"

"Hey, get ba—Jessica! Get back here!" Mr. Daniels disappeared from the window as the other three dogs appeared, barking wildly.

Micah was first to reach the car & jumped into the driver's seat, much to Luke's annoyance. But there was no time to argue. Micah had already started it before the others reached it & clamored in. He sped away once more.

"Hang on to something," Luke warned Jessica.

"Wha—oh!" She flipped over a bit as Micah squealed around a corner.

"Told ya!"

"We're being followed," Micah suddenly said.

"So are they," West added, seeing another pair of lights behind the one belonging to Mr. Daniels.

"Probably his friends," Luke muttered.

Micah turned into a narrow alley & slowed down only a little to get through. "Oh no! It's blocked off!"

"What?" yelped Jessica, trying to stay in one spot.

"There's a wall at the end of this alley," Micah screeched to as the alley opened up into a round end, large enough to turn a car around. He started to back up.

* * *

**Matt Parkman & Mike, San Diego**

"Sir, we have the address in sight," a voice said over the radio. "A car just pulled out."

"Follow them," answered Mike. After he hung up, he turned to Matt sitting next to him. "I hope you know what you're doing. Getting another precinct involved in this."

"They just need to find Micah. We're the ones who want to take him home."

"Let's hope this is it," Mike followed the others a ways behind.

All four cars soon found themselves clogged in a one-lane alleyway. Mike pulled out & parked on the far side. "Hear anything?"

Matt focused entirely on the alley ahead. "Yep. He's in there alright. So are Luke & West &..." He stopped. /Who are you?/

"What?" Jessica nearly jumped out of her skin.

"What?" Luke repeated. "I didn't say anything."

"Someone was just asking about me."

"Wasn't me," West said.

"Matt!" Mike gave his friend a small smack on the shoulder.

"Hmm?" Matt glanced around. "I think there's another telepath in there."

"Another one? Great."

"Not quite like me though," Matt shrugged. "Something's different."

There was a crash of bumper on bumper. Micah & West who were in the front were thrown slightly forward but yanked back by the belts. Another bump. The four of them decided to abandon the car while the doors were still operable & ran in several directions. Jessica & West headed right & ducked behind a large dumpster bin. Micah & Luke headed up a small flight of stairs that lead to a locked door, but at least out of the way of an oncoming car.

The other car stopped moving & Mr. Daniels got out. "Jessica? Where are you? Come here before these kidnappers try to hurt you."

"You're the kidnapper, not me!" Micah shot back.

The other car had backed out by now. It was a San Diego police car. The two officers inside had gotten out & hurried back down the lane, guns ready. They stayed well back, but close enough to see what's going on.

"What seems to be the problem here?" Someone suddenly asked. Someone who...wasn't there before. Someone who had literally dropped from the sky without even being noticed.

"Oh my—what is he doing here?" Micah gasped.

"Who are you?" Mr. Daniels asked, slightly confused.

He laughed softly. "Sylar." With that, he lifted one hand, sending cars flipping end-over-end away. Mr. Daniels' eyes opened wide & he turned to run. "Uh-uh. I asked you a question." Mr. Daniels felt nothing, yet something, yank him back. "I expect an answer. What's the problem here?"

"I'm just here to take Jessica back home," Mr. Daniels gasped between breaths. The pressure on his throat was nearly excruciating yet he was nowhere near this man...this...Sylar.

"You have some of the Rebel Team here after you & you are just here to take your friend back home?" Sylar asked.

"Well...yes"

"Huh," Sylar cocked his head. "You're actually not lying. No matter," He tossed Mr. Daniels to one side. "I've come for someone myself." He walked towards the stairs where Luke & Micah crouched. "Someone else who needs to go home. Luke? You're coming with me!" He put a hand on his shoulder & grabbed the boy off the stairs.

"What?" Micah & Luke both gasped.

"Oh, put me down, Sylar!" Luke squirmed, trying to kick him. Micah stared in disbelief. Didn't Luke know who he was dealing with here? "Now!" Luke continued his rant.

"I'll put you down when I feel like putting you down," Sylar flipped the boy over his shoulder. "Let's go."

"No! You can't do this!" Luke fought back but Sylar was already in the air.

"Luke. Luke!" Micah & West both ran out to the center of the turn-around but Sylar had already disappeared into the starless sky.

Micah fell to his knees. "Oh, no. No! What does he want with him?"

"His power, obviously," West fretted beside him. "Though I don't know why he didn't just kill him here."

"What's wrong?" Jessica stepped out at last just as Matt Parkman & Mike arrived on the scene.

"Wrong? Wrong!" Micah jumped to his feet. "That man was Sylar! Haven't you ever heard of him?"

"No," Jessica said.

"Sylar was here?" Matt asked Micah.

"He just flew away," Micah said. "with...oh Mr. Parkman! He took Luke!"


	7. Chapter 7

**(Yes, I have made a tiny Sylar-Spock referral here. Couldn't resist :D) **

* * *

**(7) Reunion**

**Peter, NYC**

"Hello?" Peter murmured, half-holding his phone to his ear.

"Peter?"

"Mmm," Peter felt like he was falling back asleep.

"Your friend just dropped by & grabbed a kid," the strangely familiar voice accused. "I thought you both told me he was under control?"

"Who...what?" Peter sat up, rubbing his eyes. "Who're you?"

There was a long moment. "Peter it's me. Matt Parkman?"

"Oh," Peter nodded, not that anyone could see the gesture. He checked the clock next to his bed. "Matt, it's nearly two in the morning. What is it?"

"Your friend was here & just grabbed someone," Matt stated again.

"Uh-huh," Peter lay back down, wishing he could sleep again. "Matt, I'm really tired. I did a double shift yesterday & going back in a few hours. Please be quick about this!" He tried not to snap but was too sleepy to care.

"Sylar," Matt spoke slowly & loudly. "took Luke Campbell. Some kid of the Rebel Team."

"S...S...So?" Peter yawned.

"So? So!" Matt was becoming irate. "So it seems that your friend who was supposed to be different is back to his old tricks. That's so!"

"Oh, Gabriel finally found that boy, did he?" Peter woke up a little. Might as well face the facts. No more sleep tonight. "About time. We were looking for him everywhere."

"You were?" Matt asked, surprised.

"Yeah, he has some business with the kid," Peter got up & headed for the kitchen to make some coffee.

"What business could he possibly have besides taking another power?"

"Personal really," Peter dropped the coffee mug & it bounced off his toes. "Ahh!" He hopped about on the spot, clutching the bruising foot. "God! Dammit!"

"You alright?"

"Stupid cup! Matt? NEVER call me when I'm trying to sleep again." Peter slowly set his foot on the floor again. "I'm cold. Tired; have a massive headache now no thanks to you since I don't have Regen at the moment & now I dropped my mug."

"Sorry," Matt muttered. "But if Sylar's around again, wouldn't y—"

"Look," Peter finally lost his temper. "I said it's personal. Don't worry, all will know eventually what's going on with those two but let Gabriel handle things first. He just found out himself over the weekend. So what if he takes Luke's power on top of it all? With his empathy, all he has to do is feel the kid up. Kiss him a bit. You know, the usual. No big deal. It won't kill the boy. Now if you don't mind, I'm going back to bed. Goodnight!"

Matt closed his own phone after hearing the click from Peter. "That man's working way too much."

"What did he say?" Micah asked.

"Apparently, Sylar has some business with Luke," Matt began.

"Yeah, taking his power," Micah interrupted.

"No, something else," said Matt. "Something personal that Sylar found out a while ago. Look, I'll go after him & find Luke. But you guys," Matt glanced from Micah to West & Jessica Havoc. "all go home. Now! Sylar is too dangerous even for Rebel." He turned away to Mike.

West stepped up to Micah. "I know all about Sylar. Claire is a close friend of mine."

"He threatened me once," Micah sighed heavily. "I heard about him before then but after meeting him, I looked him up through the internet. Ever since, I've wondered why I survived even if I was a kid at the time."

"I'd have flown after him, but his flight pattern is different from mine somehow," West glanced up at the darkened sky. "Sylar is much to fast for me."

"Nathan Petrelli," Micah said under breath. "My God! I hope Luke's ok!"

"What could have possibly happened over the past few days to alert Sylar about us?" West went on.

"I don't know," Micah shook his head, trying to hide the shaking in his whole body. If Sylar could really track his team now, were any of them safe? Was Rebel responsible for Luke's capture? Parkman was right. It was time to go home.

On the way home, Micah tried to rack his brain over Rebel Team's previous steps, trying to figure out what would have attracted Sylar but nothing came to mind.

* * *

**Sylar/Peter, Philadelphia**

**(a few days ago)**

The smashed Buell had been put into a shop along with every last part & scrap-piece Sylar had managed to collect. While the mechanics went to work on the poor lady, he reluctantly stepped away & soon found himself beside Peter, still wearing the 'Pissed Petrelli' glare.

"Can I speak to you now?" Peter huffed.

"Fine," Sylar's shoulders slouched for a moment. "I have to wait all day for them to be done & there's nothing better to do." At least it would be only one day. Sylar had paid generously to get the work done in one day. Who cares? It wasn't his money anyway. Claire, on the other hand, had better not plan any more of these shopping sprees for the next few years to come. Then again, where did she get all that money in the first place? Sylar brushed the thought aside. It wasn't his problem. After a slight pause he added, "Well, unless I leave you behind & go out for a kill after all these years."

"Don't even joke about things like that," Peter glared. "Now about Gretchen."

"I did nothing much to her," Sylar defended. "I have no interest in that girl!"

"You did enough," Peter said.

"I'm sorry, ok?" Sylar held up his hands. "When Claire flipped Buell, I don't know. Something inside me just...snapped."

"You better be careful how you snap," Peter said. "We're all lucky no one got killed."

"I know, I know," Sylar sat down on a bench along the walkway. "Look, I'll apologize to Gretchen if I see her again. IF...if Claire isn't around to hear it. I'm not saying anything to your niece. You deal with her."

"I'm trying," Peter gritted his teeth for a moment, sitting down across from Sylar. "Now she's mad at me no thanks to you."

Sylar laid his head back to gaze at the sky. "Sorry," he muttered, only half-meaning it.

"I just hope I can fix that within a few days."

Sylar sat up. "What are you so worried about? She'll come back to you in no time."

Peter gasped softly, trying to focus on something. "I hope so. There might be one time that...she doesn't."

"Oh?"

"Remember when you were in Level 5 & I was jumping around in time with my scarface self?"

"Unfortunately," Sylar said. "I'll never be able to forget that time. We were tricked into thinking we were brothers then."

Peter fell silent a moment. Something clicked in his head but what that something was, he couldn't figure out. He felt he was close to an answer. So close he could almost taste it. Almost. Temptingly, involuntarily, he felt his hand start to slid across the wood to Sylar's hand. Peter instantly recoiled. He could not let that happen. Oh but to have the Hunger aga—no! It was bad enough Sylar had it full-ti—but he really could use that power just for a moment. Just to figure it out. Whatever it was.

"Peter!" Sylar yelled at him. "Snap out of it!"

"What?" Peter looked up into his friend's face, blinking.

"Oh wow! Where the hell did you just go?"

"Um," Peter glanced about. "I...uh...sorry."

"For...what?"

"Never mind," Peter shrugged. "What was I saying?"

Sylar looked Peter up & down, wondering what was going on in that head of his. No, don't think like that! Peter doesn't have Reg—oh who cares? It's been years since he killed. Who needs frie—damn Hunger. Focus on the conversation! He forced that demon down, half-wishing to be in the Nightmare world again where the monster inside him could never follow. "We mentioned Level 5? Your time jumping?"

"Claire was trying to kill me," Peter finally finished.

"So what?" Sylar shrugged. "The scarface has all his powers back again. That would include Regen."

"Yes, in a matter of speaking," said Peter. "But all anyone has to do is shove a wedge in that spot & bury us deep in an unmarked grave somewhere. Might be eons before we come out again."

"You're making us look like a couple of vampires," Sylar bared his teeth, pretending he had fangs.

"Ok...I'm just glad I saw that AFTER the nightmare world we got stuck in," Peter slipped back an inch or two. "Otherwise my view might have been a bit different in there." Sylar just laughed at him. "It isn't funny, Gabriel," Peter cut in. "Claire could turn at any time. Uh, no pun intended there. I mean—shut up!" (Sylar was still snickering at him.) "I mean I'm trying to prevent that. She...oh. Well, she gets someone very special killed. She...well, I'm just trying to..."

"Peter, if you asking for...that...particular power..."

"I was thinking of it, but no," Peter said. "So long as I keep Claire the way she is. Now. Not let her change. It should be fine. Right?"

"You're asking me?" Sylar half-smiled. "Who else does she kill?"

"It was an accident," Peter evaded. "He got caught in the crossfire, I guess. But I never expected Claire to bring in the whole cavalry & endanger an innocent kid."

"A kid?" Sylar sat up sharply. "I can't see Claire killing a kid. My God, Peter! I don't even go after children. I never planned to actually kill Molly Walker. Actually, I'm not sure what I planned with her; my mind was so twisted back then. But not kill her. As for Jackie, well that was an accident. She was supposed to be Claire. She wasn't supposed to die."

"Well like I said, it was an accident," Peter repeated. "But still her fault; though, at that time she probably would blame me for it all."

"Who's the kid's parents?"

"I don't know."

"You're lying to me?"

"Damn it, Gabriel!" Peter snapped. "Ok, I know who the father is but not the mother. I can't tell you more right now until I do, so yes, all I have left is a lie. Call it a white lie, please?"

"Alright," Sylar gave up. "But you're not making much sense & when that happens...then that could happen next."

"If I do need to feed you, please give me the Regen first," Peter grumbled.

"I'll think about it," Sylar raised one brow in a Spock-ish sort of way.

"Gabriel," Peter whined, annoyed at Sylar's wicked grin.

* * *

**Claire/Gretchen, Philadelphia**

**(also a few days ago)**

Claire stared at the spot where Buell had been standing hours before. Gretchen had finally come out of her bath & was getting changed behind her. "I wanted to see for myself," Claire suddenly said.

"See what?" Gretchen pulled a nightshirt out of her suitcase.

"Peter said it's been twelve years," Claire explained. "Sylar was a different person now."

"Sylar? Again?"

"I just wanted to look into his face & see if I could find someone else there," Claire went on. "But after what Sylar did to you, I don't believe Peter. Not for a second!"

"I really don't want to talk about either of those guys tonight."

"Gretchen," Claire began.

"Just drop the subject!" Gretchen snapped, sliding under the covers on one side of the king-size bed.

Claire sighed & with a slight eye-roll, she got into the other side of the bed, noting with a hurt look that Gretchen purposely kept the space in the middle wide. "Sorry," Claire whispered under breath.

By next morning, Gretchen had managed to keep the conversation on their shopping spree. Claire decided to go along with it & discuss Sylar, as well as Peter, later. They were half-way back to college when disaster struck. Literally.

Whatever happened next, Gretchen would never find out. There was an ear splitting scraping of metal on metal as two other cars rammed into hers, one from either side. Gretchen tried to keep the wheel straight but her car was sent into a 360 spin as one oncoming vehicle finally managed to swerve away. The second vehicle struck again, flipping her car over.

Gretchen shook herself hard. After checking on Claire, she realized that they were both upside-down. A pair of hands entered the window next to Claire & cut away the belt. Gretchen felt someone do something similar to her.

Claire locked eyes with Gretchen for a fraction of a second. "If you get the chance...run!" Then she was gone.

"Claire!" Gretchen barely remembered screaming before she knew no more.

Claire felt herself being dragged back. "No!" She clutched at the severed seatbelt lying out on the ground but her grasp was slowly slipping. She knew she was being burned by the material. Her blood came out in a rush, soaking the strap. Claire decided that if she couldn't hold on then at least the place was marked. Someone was bound to check that blood. She let go. Why stay anyway? They had Gretchen.

Claire felt something tighten around her eyes. A blindfold? Then she felt her hands being tied behind her back. Was it the sorority? But they wouldn't go that far as to risk major injury or even death in a car crash. Would they? Somewhere deep inside, she felt that this was not the college. She felt herself being flipped over someone's shoulder & carried a ways, then placed inside another car.

"Now don't you fret," a man's voice said. "Someone just needs your help for a bit."

"Couldn't they just ask?" Claire huffed.

The man didn't answer. She heard, felt, the door slam a bit harder than it should have. "You got the other girl?" the man called out. Claire shifted in her seat. There was more than one?

"Right here!" another man's voice said. "What should I do with her?"

"Put her in your car for now," said the first man. "We don't need her but we can't have her running off telling tales either. Let's go."

After a few minutes of driving, Claire ventured to ask, "Where are we going?"

"Just to the boss's house."

Claire inwardly groaned. Obviously, the boss's house but where the bloody hell was that? "Where does he live?"

"On the outskirts of a small town," was the reply. "Don't worry, you'll be back in time for your classes."

"What about Gretchen?"

"Goodness me, you ask a lot of questions!" the driver snarled. "Her too. We actually don't need her at all but you two are always together. No matter. We just need you for today."

Claire lapsed into silence once more, thinking hard. Gretchen was in another car. They were apparently being kept together though she couldn't know for sure. She was blindfolded, tied; being taken somewhere she didn't know. Somewhere far judging by the time this drive was taking. How many hours had it been now? Two? Five? Probably just minutes that seemed a long time. Wasn't that usually the way it went?

* * *

**Peter, NYC**

Peter dropped from the sky & landed in front of the lobby door to his apartment building. He barely made it to his own door when his phone started ringing. "Hi. Mom?" Peter held the phone between ear & shoulder alone while trying to get into his apartment at the same time. "What?" He finally got in after realizing he was using the mail key for the door. No matter. No body saw that one! "Gabriel? Yesterday? Oh, he had to get his bike fixed. Someone," He decided not to mention Claire's name right now. "broke the thing."

"What happened to them?"

"Them?"

"Whoever broke Sylar's bike?"

"Uh, Gabe demanded their wallet to pay for the damages & then left. Why?"

"Where is he now?"

"Finally in New Jersey," Peter said. "He's been trying to take Buell on a road trip since he got the thing. Is something wrong?"

"Sylar is going to kill again," Angela finally said. "If he hasn't already."

"Is this the dream thing again?"

"Yes."

"Mom, you know that they're not always right," Peter said. "He has no target."

"You don't know that."

"Mom."

"Why else would he go to New Jersey?"

"Not that it's anyone's business but he has a lake cabin up there. That's all."

"You let him go?"

"Yes."

"Alone? I thought you were keeping an eye on him."

"I am, but I have a job to."

"Sylar should be your job."

"What do you expect me to do?" Peter retorted. "Lock him down somewhere? We all know that won't work. Even if he does plan to kill again, there's nothing anyone can do about it. He's too strong. I only have one power at a time & he can't die. Besides, I don't think he will kill again anyway. I've spent twelve years alone with him, remember?"

"So you have no plan to keep him under control. Is that what you're saying?"

"Actually, I do have a plan."

"Oh? What is it?"

Peter opened the fridge, grabbed the milk & poured himself a glass. Should he tell her? She probably already knew anyway. He ended up saying, "Until I figure out who someone's mom is, I can't say anything. Please just trust me on this."

"Someone's mom?"

"Yes," Peter said simply. "Everything ride's on a kid. Hey, maybe you or I can dream it. Are you at home?"

"Yes."

"I'll come borrow your power later."

"I hope you know what you're doing, Peter."

After hanging up with her, Peter murmured to himself, "So do I, Mom. So do I."

* * *

**Sylar, New Jersey**

Sylar had finally made his way into the Watchung Mountains, heading up the First Ridge towards his cabin. He had only made one stop in Newark itself & this only for the most expensive breakfast possible, any excuse to use Claire's wallet since she had apparently given him free rein over it.

Now however, it was time for more serious business. Sylar at first regretted not being completely honest with Peter; however, since that paramedic had been vague at best about his time jump, Sylar decided that he deserved his own white lie. Simply put, he was tracking someone up here; though, he had no intent on killing the person. No, not even 'back then' he wouldn't have killed this time. Only here to keep an eye on him, he preferred to let the man die slowly.

Sylar parked the Buell along the side of the road as a large black car sped past. He glared at it a moment, considering if he should use any of his powers on the thing to slow it down but decided against it. Instead, he stepped up to the edge of the road where it fell down a large steep slope rolling back to civilization. He had taken a back road to get up here to stop for a glance before going on to the cabin. Now looking down in the distance, he could see the run-down trailer. After twelve years, Sylar suddenly felt strange standing here watching the old coot. Shouldn't he have died a long time ago? Sylar stretched his arms out in front of him. A mere few weeks ago, he had to remind himself. He positioned himself on a rock & pulled out some leftovers he had saved from breakfast. "Hello, father," he muttered sarcastically under breath as he opened a half-sandwich.


	8. Chapter 8

I would have uploaded this on Thursday night but I was having internet problems grrrr

* * *

**(8) To Catch A Beast**

**Claire (location unknown)**

Claire finally decided that it had been hours since she was tossed in one car & Gretchen in another. She started, realizing that she had been dozing off. That wasn't good. Claire needed to watch—feel rather—for a chance to escape.

At least she had learned the names of some of her captors. Claire had been horrified to hear that there were not one but two men in the front seat. One was Jason who was apparently the driver. His friend was Bolten Avens who had a deep Australian accent. The only way Claire new the second guy's last name was when he may have done something to annoy the driver, making Jason retort the full name as a curse.

The gears changed & the car was coasting on rough pavement.

"We're almost there," Jason had said as the car swung through a graceful curve.

"Mhm," Claire hummed, not really caring. She wished they had talked more of their other friend, or was it friends? She had heard nothing about Gretchen since she had asked. The only other information she finally picked up was that these guys knew someone named Ralph, when they complained about him taking off without warning.

Claire ran it through her head one last time. Jason, a driver, no discernable accent. Bolten Avens, an Australian. Ralph. She hoped Ralph was not the one driving Gretchen if he had taken off.

After another twenty or so minutes, Claire felt the car slow down & rumble over gravel. It eventually stopped & the two men got out. She was next.

"We're here," Bolten's voice sounded. He pulled her out & led her onward. Claire was suddenly able to see & she glanced around. She was in the woods somewhere, on the porch of an old trailer. Bolten & Jason shoved her inside.

"We finally have her, Mr. Gray."

Gray? "Sylar?" Claire glanced around but saw no one save on old man who looked ready to croak any minute.

"Ah, there you are my girl," Samson managed to say between gasping breaths. His voice seemed friendly enough. But...Gray? "Come on in! I haven't got all day. I need your help for something & then you can go. Oh first, where's Ralph?"

"I don't know," Jason shrugged. "He's got the other girl."

Claire gasped as Bolten added, "We don't need her. He probably just brought her back to the college."

"Good idea," Samson agreed. "Now you, girl, come here. Don't be afraid."

"You wouldn't happen to be related to Sylar, would you?" Claire asked. "Gabriel Sylar Gray?"

"Oh, Gabe's my boy!" Samson said cheerily. Claire knew that the only thing stopping her from passing out right about now was that damnable Regen. "Sylar is the name of a watch. My brother fixes watches. I guess that boy picked it up for himself."

"Is he here?" Claire barely managed to say, unable to imagine Sylar as a boy.

"Gabriel?" Samson asked. "Oh, no. I haven't seen him in ages & I doubt I will again. Unless, you help me."

"Oh," Claire felt a little hope at last. She stepped forward a few times to get away from Jason & Bolten. She didn't miss the little nod Samson sent them or the fact that they went outside afterward. "You need me to help trap Sy...Gabriel? Is that it? I'd be glad to help."

"Trap him?" Samson looked puzzled a moment. "No, no this has nothing to do with him. He wouldn't help me at all; other than mentioning something about some cheerleader. When you jumped off that wheel, I figured he was talking about you."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, my boy can't seem to die," Samson stated. "He said he picked up that healing power from a cheerleader. Is this you?"

"Yes," Claire felt her heart sink. If she wasn't here to trap Sylar, why was she needed? Instinct filled her with a sickening dread.

/Doors slammed shut. The blinds came crashing down, blotting out the light./

"Good," Samson nodded, leaning back in his chair. "That's all I need to know."

That was all? Really? "Can I go then?"

"In a moment," Samson set aside his oxygen & shakily stood up. "I want that power! He wouldn't give it to me so I'll just get it from you."

/ ... "I don't want to fight you, Claire." Sylar's menacing voice pounded in her head. ... /

"From me?"

"Yes."

"How?"

"Same way Gabe did, I presume," Samson shrugged. "He got that Intuitive Aptitude from me after all."

"Oh," Claire whispered more to herself. "I see." Something very familiar slammed into her. She suddenly found herself lying across the very table Samson Gray laid out his animal carcasses. "No! Stop, no!" She squealed, trying to sit up. Surprisingly, after a bit of a struggle, she could sit up.

"I'm too old for this," Samson muttered. "Stay down. What are you so afraid of?"

"He did it, too."

"You lived," Samson didn't rightly care. "You will again. Good grief, you're just as bad as Gabriel is. He wouldn't stay put either."

"I don't blame him!" Claire surprised herself by suddenly sympathizing with Sylar, of all people. She leaped from the table & started running. Again, she was yanked back.

"I'll have to strap you down for this," Samson grabbed one of her wrists by power alone. Rope wrapped around it & pulled down. She soon found her self tied down completely around both wrists & ankles.

"Not again!" Claire cried in frustration.

"This'll only take a moment," Samson moved around to her head. "Then you can go."

Claire lay still, resigned to her fate. There was nothing she could do against a Gray. Any Gray. All she could do was heal. Thank God for that. It was the only way to weather a Gray's attack. She heard a motor in the distance coming closer. It sounded like it was coming up the driveway. She hoped it was Gretchen. At least they could go home together after. That motor didn't sound like a car at all. It was something else.

Samson bent over her head just as something crashed through the glass. Claire lifted her head as best she could while both Jason & Bolten sailed on their way through the next wall & landed in a pile. Samson stepped back as Sylar jumped through the hole he had created.

"Let that girl go now, Dad!"

"Great, this just keeps getting better & better," Claire muttered to herself, letting her head fall back on the table with a soft thud. She tugged at her binds but to no avail.

"Gabriel, how are you, m'boy?"

"Like you care!" Sylar spat, stepping past Claire until he had himself positioned between her head & his father.

"Of course I care," Samson defended. "There are many things I regret in the past."

"You're not allowed to regret anything!" Sylar hissed. "You slaughtered my mother in front of my when I was but a child. You sold me away to someone else. You sold your own child! What kind of father would do that? What did you do with that money? Buy a woman? Pay those two guys to get Claire? Or perhaps you still have it to gloat over?"

"Must you be so hateful?" Samson said in a condescending voice.

"You deserve no less," Sylar returned evenly.

Claire silently listened to the exchange. She finally saw him. Well, felt more like since Sylar was past her line of sight. But this Sylar truly was a different man to the one she was used to. This one seemed vulnerable like a wounded deer.

"If you must know," Samson said. "I didn't even use that money. I gave it away. It's in a trust fund for someone. Now, step aside or let me take it from you but either way Gabriel, I'm getting that power today."

"Not if I can help it," Sylar raised a hand to throw his father back.

Gunshots were fired. Several screams were heard. Claire in surprise. Sylar in pain. Samson in anger.

"You idiots!" Samson roared before hacking. He soon continued, "That's my son. You'll only piss him off since he can't die. I can, so watch where you point those things."

"I'm not pissed off," Sylar whirled around & threw Jason back again. Bolten had ducked out of sight. "Don't make me kill either one of you." He put a hand on his shoulder to massage the bruise as a bullet dropped to the floor. The Regen soon cleared it up. "That hurt." Before he could do anything else, Sylar found himself face first against what was left of the wall.

"You or her? You choose but hurry up!" Samson ordered.

"Ok, NOW I'm pissed off!" Sylar snarled through gritted teeth. He pushed back with his own power until he was just able to turn around.

"You stay put," Samson glared. "For once, listen to your Dad like a good boy."

"If there's one thing you've taught me...Dad...it's how to be bad," Sylar shot back. "You're even responsible for my original power; passed to me by genetics."

"Be quiet!" Samson huffed. "Let me concentrate." He moved towards Claire once more.

Sylar twisted against the power holding him. He had to get out of it soon. He forced back with his own until he was able to turn one palm upwards towards his father. A bolt of blue shot forth, knocking Samson sideways. Sylar found he could suddenly breathe easy again.

"Keep him busy!" Samson glared at Jason & Bolten for a moment as he advanced on Claire once more.

Sylar managed to knock both men backward a few paces when his father's power slammed into him once more. It twisted into the muscles of his back, sending pain down his spine as he wrenched himself around. "No. Stop!" Sylar yelled, holding both hands up in defence. With a cry of pain he was flung backwards into the wall. He got up. "I'm not going to let you do this!" He was poised for an attack.

"Gabriel, stop it!" Samson suddenly yelped, putting one hand on his forehead where a cut was forming. "You really care about some girl that can't even die?"

"More than she knows," Sylar whispered so Claire couldn't hear.

"Ha!" Samson scoffed as the cut grew larger. He pushed back with the same power, trying to hold his son at bay. "Is this what I'm dealing with? No wonder you're so strong for me. Go on then. Kill me. It's the only way to save your girl."

"I'm not his girl!" Claire interjected though none of the men heard, or cared perhaps.

"She's actually gay," Sylar said.

"I am not," Claire retorted.

"Oh, forgive me," Sylar uttered sarcastically. "Lesbian. Whatever."

"I'm not a...oh forget it already!"

"Oh, so you are just experimenting," Sylar derided. "Didn't I tell you so?"

Samson actually laughed. "The girl's right. This does keep get better & better." He continued laughing.

Sylar took advantage of his father's moment of inattention. In an instant, he had the old man flat on his back on the floor. He summoned a rope hanging from another wall & they flew over & coiled around Samson's body, seemingly of their own accord. "I've been waiting for this day for a long time." Sylar stepped lightly across the floor to his father's side & crouched down. He pulled off his black leather riding gloves & let them drop beside him. One was burned through with the previous electric charge. Next, Sylar pulled out a small box from under his jacket & opened it. Inside was a syringe.

"Are you going to kill me with that, Gabriel?" Samson all but mocked.

"I'm not a kind man, Dad," Sylar said. "You'll die the long suffering way, just how it's supposed to. But unlike me, you don't have Regen. You can't recover from drugs as easily as I can. I've had this day planned for a while. A really long while, from my point of view." He jabbed the needle into his father's arm. "I think it's time you took a little nap."

"Drop it!" Jason yelled as he stood up. Sylar did so & then shrugged nonchalantly. Next moment, Jason was thrown backwards once more. He took his time to pick himself up.

"Don't you run away from me," Sylar raised a hand in Bolten's direction. The man came flying back & found himself standing sheer inches from Sylar. The two of them looked at each other, Bolten wondering what to expect next, Sylar merely playing." There was a crack & Bolten went down hard. He lay on the floor, his nose bleeding profusely from the punch. Sylar opened his phone as the cowering man crawled away to his friend, stared at it as if trying to remember what number he wanted & then finally dialled. While waiting for answer, he lifted his gloves from the floor by power alone & soon held them in his free hand. "Hello? Gabriel Gray. It's done." A moment of silence. "Good. I'll be waiting."

"Come on," Bolten grabbed Jason by the arm & yanked him away. "Let's get out of here while we can." He ran to the car, pulling Jason along. Both got in & sped backwards & away.

"Sylar?" Claire called as she heard another leave. No answer. Eventually, she heard the Buell start up & then move. The sound grew louder before turning around a corner of the house. Silence. She grumbled in frustration. What was that creature planning to do with her now?

Sylar came back in & soon, Samson's wheelchair moved by power alone. The chair rolled towards his feet & stopped. He placed his sleeping father in it & rearranged the ropes to keep him there. After another moment of silence, Claire heard things being moved around or tossed to the floor. Sylar was rummaging around again, in a hamster kind of a way, looking for anything relevant.

"Sylar?"

"Hmm? Oh! Knew I forgot something."

"If only you would forget me," Claire muttered as Sylar finally came into her line of sight.

"You're right," Sylar teased, patting her cheek. She turned her head away. "I can't forget a pretty face like that."

"Just get me out of here."

"Bossy much?" Sylar smiled at her. As one, all bounds came off & Claire sat up, soon wishing she hadn't. Her head had come close to Sylar's when she moved. "Are you alright?"

"Like you care," Claire slid off the table on the side away from Sylar.

"If I didn't care, I wouldn't ask."

Claire huffed under breath & pretended to be busy smoothing out her shirt. Sylar went back to turning the place upside-down while Claire glanced outside through the broken wall & then back at him. "What are you doing?" she finally asked.

"Just looking for anything that might be useful about him," Sylar nodded to the old man still sleeping in the wheelchair.

"What about him?"

"Someone's coming to get him," Sylar pulled a book off the shelf, flipped through it & tossed it on the desk. He grabbed another one, back turned away as if ignoring her. Claire again glanced to the break in the wall & started moving for it. "Just sit down. They'll be here any minute."

"I don't want to stay here with either one of you," Claire muttered, stepping back the way she had come as she really didn't have much choice in the matter.

"Claire," Sylar stopped his wreckage of the place & turned to look at her. "You're safe now. He's asleep & I'm busy." Claire continued to glare at him. Sylar stared coolly back. "Just sit in that chair." The chair in question turned outward for her. He turned away from her once more.

"The sooner we leave the better."

"We will as soon as he's picked up."

"I wonder where Gretchen is?" Claire went on. "We were separated. She was in a different car. I need to get out there & start looking for her."

"There's nothing much either of us can do for her at the moment," Sylar said absent-mindedly as he lay a large photo album on the table in front of him.

"I hope she was taken back to the college," Claire went on as Sylar tried to concentrate on the album. "I don't have my cell on me but I'll try calling hers as soon as we leave here. When are your friends coming?" Claire asked.

"They're not my friends," Sylar explained. "I've set this up a long time ago. They're just going to take him some place where he can't hurt anyone again. There, he can live out his days in the pain he deserves."

"I heard what you said," Claire hesitated. She watched him as he sat back in a chair, holding the album in front of him. Was that surprise on his face? She ventured on. "About your mom &...& getting sold." The album snapped shut, making Claire start. "I'm sorry, I...never knew."

The album slammed on the table. "For once, you say something right about me. No you DON'T know. Anything! Not one thing about me."

"Well, yo—"

"I've apologised for what I did to you I don't know how many times now!" Sylar went on without waiting to hear her. "You don't know, don't WANT to know, how much I regret everything I've ever done. You've never given me one chance."

"But I—"

"Enough!" Sylar slammed one fist on the album. "I don't want to talk about it anymore. I've apologised to you. Take it or leave it. Though judging by the way you still seem to fear & hate me, my guess is, you left it."

"I-I-I'm sorry," Claire said. "I was...what I mean...you were so brutal! It takes time to get past what you do."

"I'm not like that anymore," Sylar's shoulders dropped an inch or two as he rolled his eyes. Would she never stop talking abo...oh? What was that on the lower shel...duct tape! An excellent tool! "Forget it! Just sit down!" At that, Claire felt herself being put into a chair. Sylar had stood up as he took control of her body. He advanced on her.

"What are you...is that duct ta...Sylar! No—mmf!"

"I said I don't want to talk about it anymore," Sylar added a few more strips, one on each hand to the armrests. "That's better." He patted the top of her left hand, kissed the tip of her nose & want back to his own chair.

"MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMF!" Claire growled.

"Oh relax. I'll let you go in a bit." Sylar glanced up from the photo album to look at her. "There it is. The 'Pissed Petrelli' glare. You & Peter look so much alike in that." He absorbed himself in the album again. It wasn't a family album. It was more like a file book. Page after page; filled with gruesome pictures. Samson Gray had kept a picture of probably every victim he had killed. One person for one power. Heads ripped apart with blood everywhere. Sylar felt sick at heart the more he turned pages. Had he been just as bad? He hadn't taken as much as his father; neither had he kept a collection of pictures either. Did that make him better than his father? Or worse? Maybe Samson took pictures to alleviate the guilt of the kill? Maybe Sylar didn't care as much & so wouldn't bother. No, that's not right. He was better than his father. He fought back, tried to suppress this cursed power. He did not gloat over his victims by making freeze frames of their horrific last moments!

Sylar slammed the thing shut again & left it on the table. He tried to focus on something else. He opened one drawer, then another, of the desk looking for a distraction, soon finding a small binder. Opening it, he discovered several notes, addresses & names. A picture fell to the floor, face down. Sylar doubled over to pick it up, stopping short as he caught sight of the note written across the back. He sat straight for a moment. "No, it can't be." He finally put a hand out & summoned the picture upwards. Taking one glance at it, he gasped softly, "Oh, my...well that explains a lot."


	9. Chapter 9

Hope this suits the Caitlin fans. I don't want to focus to much on the past as I want to bring Changes to a close as soon as posible & start the next 'Volumn', but I do agree that Caitlin does deserve one last quick mention so here goes...

* * *

**(9) The Search For The Lost**

**Sylar/Claire, Samson's trailer**

A vehicle pulled into the driveway. Sylar tucked the picture away under his jacket as he got up. With a wave of his hand, Claire's tape came loose as he passed by to get to the door.

"Ohh!" Claire shook herself, madder than a hornet. "How dare you tape me up?"

Sylar stood in the doorway, saying over his shoulder. "I told you I didn't feel like talking. You were yapping worse than Mr. Muggles." Claire gritted her teeth & glared upwards to the ceiling. She was not like Mr. Muggles at all. "You're even blonde like he is," Sylar added.

"Oh, really now, are you serious?"

"Yes, actually," Sylar teased. "I am."

"Mr. Gray, is he ready?" A young man who would be lucky enough to be 21 asked as he climbed the three steps to the porch. Claire continued to glare at Sylar's back as he turned to the man.

"Agent Davidson," Sylar shook hands with the man. "He's all ready to go. He should be out for at least another hour."

"We'll keep him locked down," Agent Davidson said.

"See that you do," Sylar said. "He is guilty of kidnapping on top of everything else. I have one of the girls here with me but neither of us knows the whereabouts of Gretchen Berg."

"Is she also from the same college?"

"Yes," Sylar nodded slightly.

"We'll look into it right away."

"As will I," Sylar stepped aside to let the man in. Samson Gray was soon wheeled out & inside the van. Claire made as if to follow. "Where do you think you're going?"

"Maybe I can catch a ride with them back to the city?" Claire asked rhetorically. "Where do you think?"

"Sorry Miss," Agent Davidson said. "But this vehicle is specially made to hold Mr. Gray. There is no room for anyone else save my partner & I." To say Claire looked peeved would be an understatement. "You're friend will probably help you out," He took her hand & gave a quick kiss. Sylar sighed heavily, looking away, somehow annoyed. "Good bye, Miss. Mr. Gray." At that, he climbed into the front seat next to his partner & drove away.

Sylar waved them away & dropped down the few steps to the ground. He called forth his gloves from inside while stepping up to the Buell. "Guess I'll have to get these replaced later," He placed them inside a small compartment under the seat. "That electric bolt I did tore right through one."

"Good luck with that," Claire muttered, starting to walk towards him, unsure where else to go.

"Thanks," Sylar turned away before saying over his shoulder. "By the way, your wallet & the receipts for your mess you made with my bike are on your bed in Costa Verde."

"Why did you put that there?"

Sylar huffed sharply, almost growled. "Don't you get it?" He suddenly whirled on her. "I'm trying to stay away from you. Isn't that what you want? I don't want to hurt you any more! I'm through with that. A long time ago. LONG time ago!" His voice was rising with each sentence. "We seem to get thrown together no matter what happens! I certainly didn't plan this."

"I wasn't blaming you," Claire started saying.

"I want you out of my life about as much as you want me out of yours!" Sylar went on. "I hate how you look at me. I know I deserve it but I hate it! I don't want to be around you. You drive me crazy sometimes. Little things you do. Like attacking Buell. What was that for?"

"I lost it, ok?" Claire snapped back.

"That's exactly my point," Sylar said in a calm voice. "Being around you can set me off. I do not want to sink back into that hell I called my life a few years ago! I don't want to end up like my father! Peter keeps me calm. Buell does, too. You don't! You're a constant reminder of the thing I was back then! I can't have that right now." He swung one long leg over the Buell.

"Unlike for you & Peter, it is not 12 years later for the rest of us out in the real world," Claire tried again.

"I realise that!" Sylar shouted before sighing heavily once more. In a calmer voice, he went on, "It's just frustrating that not everyone is with the program yet. You all need to catch up. Fast!"

"You terrorised me in my own house," Claire said. Sylar started shaking his head as she continued. "Cut open my head. Murdered my father. That is just me. Not to mention everyth—"

Sylar was still shaking his head. "There you go again. Reminding me! Again."

"I'm just saying it takes time to get over that! You think people are going to forget what you did? No one will ever forget. You should be on death row for all the suffering you caused."

"I KNOW THAT!"

"BUT YOU HAVE REGEN!" Claire screeched right back. There was a long pause before she added quietly. "I will never forget."

"I'm not asking anyone to forget!" Sylar hissed. "Since I can't die, the least anyone can do is offer me a chance to get things right. Peter did."

"I must ask, how long did it take for him to actually accept you?"

"Years."

"I rest my case."

"Why do you think I'm trying to stay away from you? You just—Gods! Ugh!" Sylar started the Buell. He waited a moment & then turned the wheel towards the road.

"Where are you going?"

"Away from you."

"Well, wait—what?"

"You're going back to town. I'm going to my cabin," Sylar shrugged. "Sorry dear. Opposite directions."

"What about Gretchen?" Claire gasped. He wasn't just going to abandon everything, was he?

"Agent Davidson is working on that case," Sylar said. "I'll also check around on my way to the cabin just in case. But mostly, I have to keep in touch with Davidson for this."

"Y-y-you're just going to leave me here?"

"Yeah," Sylar flashed her a quick smile. "We are at war, remember? All's fair."

"You're a horrible person!"

"I know," Sylar said with a sudden hint of sadness.

"I have high heels right now. I can't walk all that way!"

"Not my problem that the fairer sex likes those stupid things in the first place," Sylar suppressed a wry chuckle. "Start walking, babe. Start walking!" He slowly started to roll away.

"You jerk!" Claire snarled. "Fine! Know what? I don't need you, Sylar!"

Sylar stopped a moment & looked back at her. "You can always hitchhike. I know it's illegal in most places but there are rarely any cops up here."

"Ohhhhhh!" Claire growled through clenched teeth as she stamped one foot on the ground. The long heel of her boot sunk into something hard. She didn't notice & tried to step forward. She was held fast. "What? Oh. Oh my God! Dammit!"

"Having trouble?"

"I'm stuck," Claire muttered, getting down on one knee of her free leg. "Never mind. Just go!" She tried to pull free, ignoring Sylar's soft chuckle under breath. The heel finally came out & she stepped forward. Unfortunately, the only reason the heel had come out was because it had almost snapped right off save for hanging on by one small piece. "There. See? I'm fi—OH!" Claire stumbled forward & fell flat on her face right below Sylar's foot still on the step of the Buell.

He glanced down at her in amused surprise. "Oh, Claire. You can be quite entertaining at times." He started laughing.

"Shut up!" Claire shoved herself into a kneeling position & started pulling leaves & clumps of dirt from her hair.

Sylar soon did so, albeit on his own time much to Claire's annoyance. He sat there, watching her trying to clean up. Suddenly, he saw something other than leaves & dirt in her hair. "Um, uh Claire? You have a—"

"I said shut up!"

"Tsk. Ok." He sat his bike, put hands over his ears & waited for it. This was not going to end well & he knew it.

Claire continued pulling things away. Her fingers soon rested on something about as large as her hand. Something warm, fuzzy & moving. It was hard to pull it away since whatever it was seemed to grip into her locks. She finally did so & held the thing in her hand. It was an enormous spider. The scream that came out of her throat was enough to send the Earth from orbit. "_**OH MY GOD!"**_ Sylar leaned forward until his forehead touched the center of the handle bars, still holding his ears closed, wincing in pain. She threw it away. "Ugh! That was just nasty!"

"Tried to warn you but no, no, no, you told me to shut up. So I did."

"That THING! Just crawling in my—AHH!" She shuddered. "Gross."

"Know what, Claire? I don't have to torture you." Sylar burst out laughing again. "You do a hell of a job of torturing yourself." He nearly fell from his seat, he was laughing so hard.

Claire glared up at him & then glanced around. Where did it land now? Ah! There it was. She reached over & grabbed a handful of dirt along with the spider who had bunched up in fright. She wasn't scared of it now that she knew where & what it was. Besides, a bite couldn't hurt her anyway. "Hey, Sylar?"

"Yeah?" He stopped laughing & looked down at her. A spider frantically scrabbled at his nose before plopping to the earth once more. Again, it pulled all legs inward, scared of these two-legged creatures tossing him around. "You did not just throw that thing at me, did you?" He rubbed some dirt from his face & shook it out of his hair.

"Mhm," Claire got up, keeping her eyes away from Sylar.

Meanwhile, the spider bravely put one leg & then another out, hopefully in an escape.

"Come here," Sylar reached down.

The poor spider felt himself being hoisted into the air again. That was it! Good bye life & beautiful webbing. Surely this was the end?

"That wasn't very nice," Sylar glared at Claire. "How would you like being tossed around?"

The spider felt something push itself towards the bushes. Whatever it was suddenly let go. Free? Seriously? He was free & away from those humans? He bunched up once more, daring to hope.

Claire brushed the dirt off her legs. She had to rest one onto tiptoe now that the heel had completely snapped off. "I don't care about the stupid spider." She started hobbling away, the other heel looking like it was about to snap off as well. She didn't get far before her foot with the broken one suddenly sank into soft mud hidden under some leaves. Claire went down almost to her knee. "For God's sake! Today!"

"Claire!" Sylar parked the Buell, got off & hurried towards the floundering female, wiping away tears. Claire decided that she hated that man's laugh more than she hated him. "You are such a city girl." He reached for her but she tried to pull away. "Nope. Hey! Stop that! Let go of the tree, Claire. Please? Let go of—thank you." He finally managed to scoop her up & carried her back to the Buell.

"Put me down!"

"Oh-h-h if only I could, but you can't die. OW!" Sylar yelped as Claire dug her nails into the back of his neck. He roughly shoved her forward onto the seat of the bike. "Stop squirming. I've never doubled on this thing before & if I see one more scratch coming from you..." He let it hang as Claire merely rolled her eyes. "What am I going to do with you? Hmm?" He put the bike in gear & headed back down with her after all.

* * *

**Peter, NYC**

Peter sat in the café alone, sipping almost-cold coffee. He had swapped out his flying power from Sylar earlier to his mother's dreaming power, hoping for an answer. But he had awakened with nothing. Just a silly dream from the past of being brothers with Sylar once more. Peter already knew the answer to that. They had been lied to & not related at all. Why couldn't he have half the control over these powers that Sylar does?

Peter finally gave up on the coffee. The cold horror was that his mother was right. If he couldn't find this mother soon & couldn't bring that boy into Sylar's life, he would eventually slip back. What was really holding him back now? He got up & slowly made his way back to Mercy Heights. He needed Sylar's power. Dreadful though it was, he needed it now more than ever. Peter dialled Sylar's number, hung up half-way through the first ring, then braved it again. He needed that power. After the third try, he finally managed to stay on long enough to leave a message. "Gabriel. I need your help with something. Could you drop by New York soon?" Peter quickly hung up. Better to get it over with.

Peter was out on call for the fourth time when Sylar had answered. Peter & Hesam had just lifted a woman with severe dog bites into the ambulance when Peter felt the vibration of his cell. He pulled it out a moment to check the name. "Gabriel. Oh, great! Now, of course, when I'm busy. Hesam, can you drive?"

"Better than you & you know it, too," Hesam took the driver's side, snickering as Peter glared. "What? You really are over-working yourself some days."

"You have no idea," Peter muttered as Hesam set the vehicle in motion. "Gabriel? Hi. You need to find who? Um, ok. I can look into that as well." After a long moment, he finally said, "I need your power. You know the one."

"No!" Sylar sat straight in his seat, making Claire who was across the table from him, jump. "You can't be serious."

"I need to find her."

"Who?"

"The mother of that kid."

"Do it on your own time."

"I'm running out of time."

"I don't care!" Sylar snapped. "You know how dangerous my power is. I was really only kidding about lending it to you. Can you imagine? Both of us running around with this?"

"Just for a day," Peter said. "You can watch over me."

"Do you know how many people I can kill in a day? No! Just forget it. Now find me that name!" Sylar closed his phone without waiting for another word. "He's crazier than I am sometimes."

"Now what did Peter do?"

"He was trying to get my power," Sylar said. "No way am I allowing someone else with this curse." He leaned back on the bench running along one wall.

The two of them had ended up in the airport for Claire to return to Costa Verde. She had originally planned to go back to the college but Noah Bennet had called her & told her to return home instead. No explanation but was very insistent on it. She had at least managed to tell her father about Gretchen & he had agreed to help look for her. The only thing Claire left out was that she was still with Sylar, even now. Since leaving the old man's trailer, Sylar & Davidson had been almost non-stop over the phone about Gretchen's whereabouts & as much as Claire hated the man, she stuck around for Gretchen.

They had little luck. Gretchen Berg had not yet reappeared at the college so the next best thing was to try & track down any one involved with kidnapping the girls. Agent Davidson had gone to the scene of the accident once Samson Gray had been put away for good, kept down by drugs, but didn't find much until Davidson's partner had managed to track down Bolten Avens living location. Now, the two of them were headed there.

Sylar rubbed his eyes with both hands. How did he get tangled up with this one anyway? All he wanted was a nice trip with his new, not to mention pretty much remade, bike & head back to his cabin for a few days. Yet Claire had somehow managed to invade his life once more. Wasn't he trying to stay away from her? He was somehow stuck with her all day, from having to drive her back down to town to letting her grab a new pair of simple shoes & get rid of her broken boots to bringing her actually to the nearest airport. At least Agent Davidson had been more or less a constant distraction.

But now? Now, there she sat across from him, glaring & he was glad that her power was healing & not death-daggers coming from her eyes. If looks could kill! "We'll find her," He finally said. He handed his phone over. "Want to try again?"

"I guess," She accepted the phone & dialled Gretchen's number again. She muttered in annoyance as it went to voice mail.

"What?"

"She has Twilight music in her away message. I hate Twilight."

"But...you're a girl. Don't all girls like that movie?"

"Ha! You're a bigger idiot than I thought," She ignored the glare. After a few minutes, she handed the phone back. "Still not answering."

"Maybe she just has it off," Sylar said. "But what do I know? I'm just an idiot."

"Oh, sorry," Claire said sarcastically.

"I don't have to sit here & take your insults."

"Then go away," Claire retorted. "I don't like you much either. As soon as we find Gretchen, she comes straight to me. I don't want you around her!"

"Alright, you know what?" He glared right back. "I'm sorry about Gretchen. Good Lord, I'm apologising to you again! Look, I didn't really touch her all that much. When I said she felt good, I was making it up. I really don't know how she feels. I just wanted to make you mad."

"Yeah well, congratulations!" Claire scoffed.

"What am I going to do with you?" Sylar yelled, slamming one hand flat onto the tabletop. He suddenly felt guilty for disturbing others in the lounge & glanced around. "Sorry. She's...she's a frustrating girl. Sorry."

Claire turned her head slightly to glare at him from a different angle. "A frustrating girl?"

"Well you are."

"I don't like sitting here with you either."

"Good! Now you know how I feel."

"Oh, eat brains," Claire muttered under breath.

Sylar glared. "That plane isn't happening fast enough."

"At least we can agree on that one!"

"You know what? I am going to go help Peter!" Sylar stood up & grabbed his jacket. "First, I'll go to my cabin to put the Buell away, then I'll fly over to New York. At least it'll get me away from you. If I do find anything on your wife-to-be," He ignored the eye roll. "I'll let you know. Good bye!" He took a few steps away, turned back & whispered in her ear. "I don't eat brains. Never have. Never will!" He walked quickly away without another glance.

Claire watched him go. When he had finally stepped outside & rode away, she said to herself aloud, "I can't wait to see the look on your face when I finally find a way to kill you! I can't wait." She rubbed her ear, annoyed that she still somehow felt his hot whisper on it.

Sylar headed non-stop for the cabin, determined this time not to get side-tracked. At long last, he finally came through the overgrown road & the cabin came into view. He set Buell on the front porch & headed inside. Right behind the door, he found an old tarp to cover the bike with. After securing Buell, Sylar took some time to wander around the property, trying to decide if he should really lend this power to Peter? Atop the far ridge on the right, one could actually see out across the ocean. Down on the left-hand side from the cabin was a little lake maybe two miles across. Sylar walked around it once, starting from the far side. When he nearly completed the circle, he noticed the ground in the forest along one side was stained red. Blood. Sylar, of all people, knew blood when he saw it. Gretchen's name jumped into his mind as he hesitated before stooping down to touch it to get a reading. Just before his fingertips reached the blood, there was a low hiss nearby that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand. Glancing up & directly ahead between two shady trees, Sylar looked into the eyes of another predator. A killer like himself.

The cougar took a few steps forward, hissing again. She stepped over a dead buck, guarding it. Sylar stood up without touching the blood. He really didn't need to know the poor deer's final moments. That was what National Geographic was for. "It's ok. I'm leaving." Another hiss. "Really. I'm going. I don't want your food. Uh, not my style. But next time, you mind doing your kill someplace else? Not near my house."

The great cat put one paw on her prize & hissed once more as Sylar lifted into the air.

* * *

**Peter, NYC**

"Dammit!" Peter punched the dashboard in front of him as he tossed the phone angrily behind him.

"Easy!" Hesam ordered in alarm. "You'll scare our patient."

"Patience. Patience! I don't HAVE any patience left."

"Not the right meaning, but go on?"

"Gabriel is being stubborn!" Peter huffed. "I need to borrow a certain power off him but he won't let me."

"Why?"

"It's complicated. I need to find the mother of this kid I know about," Peter went on. "I know who the father is but not the mother."

"When is this kid born?"

"It has to be sometime within this year, if not already."

"So just ask the Dad who he had sex with last," Hesam said. "Who needs powers for that?"

Peter blinked several times. "Hesam if we were gay, I'd have fallen in love with you for that."

"Thank Allah I'm happily married to a beautiful girl," Hesam said quickly. "When are you hooking it up with Emma anyway?"

"Now you're starting to sound like Gabriel," Peter picked his phone off the floor behind his seat. Luckily it wasn't broken.

"Then I think I'll like this guy if we have the same idea about you & Emma."

"Right," Peter opened his door & slid out as Hesam pulled up to the hospital. "Gabriel is a very complicated person."

"Everyone is," Hesam waited until both were at the back so he could talk normally. "No big deal."

"You don't know Gabriel," Peter half-laughed.

"He's a special like you, right? What more is there to know?"

"You're really into this special power thing, aren't you?"

"I saw that girl jump off the Ferris wheel," Hesam said. "I figured if you had some sort of power to, then that would explain how you were able to do certain things in the past so I asked you."

"More like cornered me & demanded," Peter corrected. "Everybody saw Claire jump off the Ferris wheel."

"You know that girl?"

"She's my niece."

"Huh, small world!"

"Yep!"

"So Gabriel is part of your family? That's why he has powers?"

"Nope, he's the guy from the Kirby Plaza."

Hesam stopped walking. "Kirby Plaza. Kirby...you mentioned something about that when you finally started talking to me again." He picked up his pace to catch up.

"Yep. Told you it was complicated," Peter said no more on that subject & focused on his job. Neither of them really had time to get back to it as it turned out to be a rather busy day. Tired & somewhat out of sorts, Peter finally stumbled into his apartment at nearly 10:00 pm that night.

Sylar was lounging around on his couch. "You know, you should really think about filling up your fridge now & then, just in case you have visitors." He held up a pizza box. "Just a thought."

"What do you want?" Peter grumbled, snatching a piece.

"Me? Uh, you asked me here, remember?"

After a long pause, Peter said, "Right. Sorry."

"You need a vacation more than you need some power."

"Yeah, I guess you're right," Peter pulled Sylar's feet off the couch enough for him to sit down. "Don't really have time though."

"Just for a weekend. Nice warm beach. Couple of girls, one for each arm. It's technically been over decade since either of us got laid."

"Yeah," Peter laughed mirthlessly. "Yeah. Not counting that, when was the last time you got laid?" Was it seriously going to be this easy?

"Oh, I don't remember," Sylar grabbed some more pizza.

No, of course not. Why should anything be easy? "Oh come on buddy!" Peter playfully slapped Sylar across one shoulder. "I could use some guy talk right about now. Don't you recall anything?"

"Peter, it's been, mm, 'scuse me!" Sylar fought off a long string of cheese. "Been twelve years. I can't think that far back about some random dame in my bed."

"Well, you're boring!" Peter complained, truly frustrated.

Sylar watched Peter all but attack his slice & decided to at least try humouring him. "Let me think a minute. Well technically," he suddenly went on. "I was with Janice Parkman."

"Whoa, whoa!" Peter looked up in surprise. "Matt's wife?"

"It wasn't actually my body. Just some sort of telepathic connection that Matt set up between his mind & my consciousness. But I was along for the ride!"

"So, if she got pregnant, who's the Dad?" Peter asked.

"Oh, I don't think she did," Sylar said. "But definitely Matt if that happened."

"Ok, in that case she doesn't count," Peter said. "When's the real last time you have been with a girl?

"Actually, if I remember correctly," Sylar thought a moment before going on. "I was back at that carnival last time I went all the way. After that, I only kissed Claire at her college."

"Bet she appreciated that one."

"I think she secretly enjoyed it."

"Ok, I give up," Peter tossed the crust into the box & took another slice. "From this moment on, I officially don't care what you & Claire do to each other."

"Really?"

"I mean, hmm," Peter stopped eating for a moment. "Why should I? Neither of you can die. She can't even feel pain anymore. There's really nothing either of you can do to each other!"

"Well, I am really trying to stay away from h—"

"I don't care!" Peter held up his hand. "Not listening. You two can screw a cactus together for all I care. I'm done. Understand? DONE! Now...about this carnival girl." Peter paused before purring out slyly. "Do tell more?"

"Really? A cactus? Peter!"

"The CARNIVAL girl! NOW!" Peter pressed. "Do you or do you not know how to have a normal 'guy talk' conversation?"

"Ok then," Sylar gave up. "Carnival gal it is. Sheesh! Just so you know, I expect your own last-time-with-a-girl details after this."

"Yeah, yeah," Peter rummaged around on the table under the empty pizza box & a few magazines.

"Case of pop's on the floor underneath," Sylar waited for Peter to pull up two cans of Sprite before going on. "I don't quite remember her name. She's the one I got this tattoo-style empathy power thing from. I really don't have a name for that either. No, I didn't kill her for it. Didn't have to. As far as I know, she's still out there some where, showing off her tattoo power. The painted lady, I think they called her."

"The painted lady?"

"Yeah, something like that," Sylar nodded his head. "Her real name is Lilith or Lilia. I don't quite remember. But it wasn't all fun & games with her. I do remember how she was merely trying to use me."

"Isn't that what sex is all about?" Peter teased.

"Well, if it's for that then hell yeah! Use & abuse me! I don't care," Sylar laughed before adding. "But that wasn't it. She was trying to find a way to take down Samuel Sullivan. So I left her."

"Abuse you, huh?" Peter repeated. "Hmm, maybe I don't want to know the details." Sylar answered him with a rude finger sign. "That's mature."

"You asked," Sylar muttered. "Now. Your turn!"

"Oh alright," Peter huffed. "Guess I did kind of walked into this. But I won't give you too many details either."

"Suit yourself," Sylar filled their glasses again. "You're the one who wanted to know."

"Yeah well, you did bring up the subject in the first place," Peter pointed out.

"Uh huh."

"I'm going to get some more pizza," Peter got up & headed to the kitchen counter where he saw a second pizza box waiting. He took his time bringing it back.

"Peter?"

"Yeah?"

"Are you stalling?"

"No, not really."

"You're lying."

"I hate that ability! Really, I do."

"It's become one of my favourites," Sylar said. "Why can't you just say 'Gimme a minute' & be done with it?"

"Ok," Peter sat down again. "Gimme a minute & be done with it."

"Peter," Sylar groaned, burying his face in one hand.

"I just don't like talking about Caitlin," Peter finally said.

"Why not?"

"I lost her."

"Peter, you lose all the girls & move on to the next," Sylar said "You're a regular Captain Kirk."

"I am not!"

"Yes, you are."

"Kirk is with Spock," Peter explained. "Not the girls."

Sylar's brow disappeared into his bangs. "Wow, I thought only silly little fangirls made that one up! Claire's right. I am an idiot when it comes to television."

"YES!" Peter shot from his seat & jumped around much to Sylar's fright. "Yes! I tricked that lie detection. Finally!"

"So you don't think Kirk is with Spock?" Sylar asked after he recovered from Peter's cry.

"I don't know who Kirk is with & I don't care," Peter was still happy about dodging that ability. "I'm not a Trekkie. Go bug Hiro for that one."

"Maybe that's why the vibes didn't go off," Sylar mused to himself. "You don't really know."

"Whatever," Peter shrugged. "Point is, I beat you."

"Kirby Plaza," Sylar sulked under breath.

"Yep," Peter agreed "Got that one right!"

"You're skipping around...uh...Caitlin?"

Peter took a long time in answering. "We ended up in an alternate future together. One filled with a strain of Shanti virus. She was taken away from me. I was thrown back into the proper time by myself. I was able to prevent the Shanti outbreak but never could get back to the future to look for her. Then I figured this being an alternate timeline, maybe there would be a Caitlin here too. So I went back to Cork. She was there but, she...well she doesn't know me. We never happened in this timeline. So I just acted like a random customer & left."

"What, you didn't try to get back with her? Start again for the first time?" Sylar asked as Peter shook his head. "That isn't a very good story."

"She was already marrying someone else," Peter went on. "In fact, the day I went back to Cork was her wedding day."

"Huh, whoopsies!"

"Yeah," Peter sighed. "Oh well, at least somewhere, in some time, she's safe & happy."

"Besides, you have Emma now, right?"

"I guess so."

"Hmm? No way!" Sylar suddenly caught on. "You're holding back because you're afraid of losing the girl like that again."

"I am not!"

"Mhm the vibes! There they go!"

"Gabriel!"

"Peter, you need to move on."

"No, what I need is to go to bed."

"You're right," Sylar stood up. "I'm sorry. I've been keeping you up after a long day." He held out his hand to Peter. "Are you sure you want this power?"

"Hmm? Oh! Uh, no, not tonight," Peter stood up as well. "Too tired to control that thing. Some other time, perhaps?"

"Good idea. Good night."

"Bye," Peter watched Sylar leave. Once he was sure that he was alone, he called Noah Bennet. "Noah? Hi, it's Peter. Can you tell me anything about this girl at the carnival, uh, known as the painted lady or Lilith or something like that?"

"Lydia Strazzulla?" Noah asked.

"Something like that," Peter said. "She had an empathy power."

"Used her tattoos to show what she saw?"

"Yes!" Peter felt he was on the right track. "Yes, something about tattoos! What do you know about her?"

"She's dead."

The train just left those beautiful tracks. Damn! "She's what?"

"Eli shot her," Noah said. "Tried to pin it on me."

"...Noah?.."

"Yes?" Noah wondered why Peter was so quiet.

"Do you know if she was pregnant?"

"No idea. Why?"

"I can't say right now but can you find out?"

"I suppose I could."

"Soon. Please. I need that information fast."

Noah thought about it. Peter worked almost literally hand-in-hand with Sylar now. He wasn't to be trusted. But finding out if some dead lady was pregnant shouldn't really be a problem, should it? "Alright, I'll have a look."

"Thank you," Peter hung up & dropped the phone onto the couch. Then he laid one arm across the wall & rested his face in it. "Oh, Gabriel. Please not her! You need that boy!"


	10. Chapter 10

Sorry for not updating in so long. My grandmother has been sick these past few months & then died a couple weeks ago. I haven't been inclined to do much for a while, so I might still post sporadically & not as often like every week, but hopefully I'll get back into that routine soon.

* * *

_Previously on Heroes:_

_"Gabriel, stop it!" Samson suddenly yelped, putting one hand on his forehead where a cut was forming. "You really care about some girl that can't even die?"_

_"More than she knows," Sylar whispered so Claire couldn't hear._

_"What about Gretchen?" Claire gasped. He wasn't just going to abandon everything, was he?_

_"Agent Davidson is working on that case," Sylar said. "I'll also check around on my way to the cabin just in case. But mostly, I have to keep in touch with Davidson for this."_

_"You have no idea," Peter muttered as Hesam set the vehicle in motion. "Gabriel? Hi. You need to find who? Um, ok. I can look into that as well." After a long moment, he finally said, "I need your power. You know the one."_

* * *

**(10) Reunions**

**Noah Bennet (present day)**

Noah spent most of the morning digging into Lydia Strazzulla's past. He had met with her sister once before, concerning Lydia's daughter. After finally contacting Carol, he was able to find where Lydia was buried, close to home. Once condolences were offered, Noah hung up & headed to Connecticut.

* * *

**Sylar/Luke; the sky (present day)**

"Sylar! What are you doing?" Luke demanded.

"I'm just goi—"

"Bring me back down! Please!"

"I was j—"

"You don't understand. I have a horrible fear of heights. Now bring me down!"

Sylar rolled his eyes. "Luke! Be quiet. I'm taking you home & flying's the fastest way. Well, second-fastest. Hiro's power would be fastest."

"I don't care!" Luke huffed. "I can't go back home now."

"You really don't have much choice in the matter."

"No, Sylar!" Luke grabbed the man's shoulders harder as he felt him twist through the thermals. "I can't go back home. Not with you! That's the deal."

"What deal? I didn't make any deals." Sylar tipped himself downward to land.

"You'll ruin everything," Luke went on. "STOP!"

Sylar yelped as Luke's shriek raped his eardrums & fumbled his landing. Both went sprawling onto the ground. "Luke, I have very sensitive ears! What is wrong with you?" Sylar demanded, standing up quickly. "What are you talking about?"

"You...can't...go back," Luke said breathlessly. "After you sent me away last time, I eventually went home. Mom was pretty upset about me killing someone. I kept telling her it was an accident. We eventually compromised by her taking care of the mess so long as I don't bring you back into our lives. Ever!"

Sylar thought about that for a moment. "Well, you're not lying. For once. Now come here!" He snatched up the boy once more & flung him over one shoulder.

"No!" Luke beat his fists fruitlessly on Sylar's back. A sudden sharp pain in his side caused him to cease.

Sylar glared up over his shoulder for a moment. "Stop wiggling!" With precious few long strides, he covered the distance to the door & half-knocked, half-pounded on it.

"Ohhh!" Luke snarled. "Wait until my dad hears about this! He doesn't want y—OW!"

"You never learn, do you?" Sylar slowly released his nails from Luke's side once more. "I know when someone's lying. It's an actual ability I took. I know far more about your dad than you do & that is no lie."

"Yes?" Mary started asking, opening the door. She stared a moment at Sylar, then shifted her gaze to Luke still flung over the man's shoulder. "W-What...?"

"Hello Ma'am," Sylar pushed inside without waiting for an invite. "Your son got into a little trouble," He tossed Luke onto the couch & walked away, not really caring how the boy landed. Sylar then helped himself in the kitchen, picking up a fresh a cup of coffee that Mary had originally made for herself. Mary slowly edged closer to Luke as he righted himself. Sylar strode back into the living as if it was the most natural thing to do, took a sip & sat down in a chair across from the Campbells. "Would you like to tell her or shall I?"

"Tell what?" Luke half-snapped.

"Luke, what is he doing here?" Mary asked.

"Oh well," Sylar shrugged. "You & I at least know the answer to that question, don't we dear Mary?"

"What?" Mary cast Sylar a frightened look.

Sylar stood up & stepped over to look down in her eyes. He held up a photo of Luke but her mind barely had time to register that fact when he turned it around. There was a little note scrawled on the back. "Found this at my Dad's house earlier."

"What does that say?" Luke leaned over to look but Sylar put the picture away. "Seems like Luke isn't the only one keeping secrets around here."

"What do you want with us?" Mary finally managed to ask.

"Oh, not much. Not much," Sylar took another long sip of his—her—coffee.

"Luke what were you doing?" Mary took advantage of the moment. "I told you not to bring him back here. Ever!"

"I didn't," Luke whimpered, more afraid of his mother right now than Sylar. "He just swooped down & picked me up like a falcon."

"He's not lying," Sylar paused from his coffee. "Go on, boy."

"While you were on a school trip?"

"Yes"

"EHHH!" Sylar made a sound like a buzzer in a game show. "Wrong. Try again."

"You weren't in school?"

"It's the weekend mom," Luke said. "It was a school campi—OUCH!" Sylar had smacked the boy over the top of his head. "I mean...well it's really..."

"What the dear boy would like to say," Sylar finally gave up on Luke. "is that he was running around the western side of the country with that Rebel Team, looking for some girl."

"Rebel team?" Mary asked. "Girl?" she added more suspiciously.

"A small group of Specials, like me. Like Luke," Sylar explained. "Usually to warn us Specials of danger. Operate like rescue missions & what have you. They're recruiting Luke."

"What?" Mary glared at her son.

"I have a power mom," Luke finally caved. "I can help."

"Can't help if you get yourself caught by the likes of him," Mary nodded at Sylar.

"Now I resent that," Sylar pouted.

"You're just like your father," Mary went on.

"Be quiet!" Sylar raised his hand & made a sharp deep cut across Mary's left temple, using power only. "Before you go too far & I'll have to kill you. I really do not want to kill anymore. Peter wouldn't be pleased. But I will if you push me. Now," Sylar finally sat in his chair again. "about my father. How would you even know?"

"I just know."

"How?"

"I just do."

"Come on, woman," Sylar glared. "Do I really need to cut it out of you?"

"No!" Luke yelped. "Please just leave her alone."

"Ok, I'll drop the subject," Sylar sat back, titling his chair on its back legs for a moment. He sighed heavily before sitting forward again. "I'll try something else. Why don't you explain to your boy why he finds it rather easy to kill?" He shrugged, 'tsk-ed' & waited.

"What do you mean?" Mary asked.

"Oh come on!" Sylar was getting frustrated. "When I was here the first time. Luke didn't have much regret in killing that agent. He just boiled his blood & later ran out with me."

"I don't know what you're talking about!" Mary snapped.

"EHHH!" Sylar buzzed again. "Well, now I know where the boy got the ability to lie from." He rolled his head a little, cracking his neck.

"You have a few powers," Mary started.

"A few," Sylar agreed,

"So does your father," Mary went on.

"Yep."

"Mom, how do you know about his dad?"

"Yeah, Mom," Sylar repeated sarcastically. "How do you know?"

"Because...I..."

"Why?" Luke & Sylar demanded at the same time.

"Because!" Mary stated again before looking Sylar in the eye. "Please, not in front of him."

"Sorry but he needs to here this."

"Hear what?" Luke asked.

"Who's your dad, Luke & do NOT lie to me?" Sylar glared.

"Anton Campbell."

"Wow, you're not lying for once," Sylar focused on his coffee once more. "This cycle really needs to be broken."

"He isn't Anton," Mary started. "He's—He is Samson. Samson Gray."

"It's alright, Mary," Sylar said. "I don't like him much either. I've just had him thrown into a jail of sorts. One capable of holding him."

"He's still alive?"

"Yeah but not for long," Sylar shrugged. "Cancer & whatever else that comes with old age."

"What are we talking about?" Luke interjected. "What do you mean?"

"We mean," Sylar answered. "I'm your brother. Well, half. Same dad. Different Moms. Somehow," His gazed turned back to Mary. "You knew that even the first time I was here, didn't you?" Mary could only nod, keeping her eyes on the carpet.

"You're my brother?" Luke gasped. "You?"

"Well don't act all surprised about it," Sylar muttered. "Yes, me! You're not a Campbell, Luke. You're a Gray. Meaning, you, like any Gray man, are quite capable of killing without a second thought. You've already done it once. Me? Well...we all know about me."

"Every Gray I've ever met is nothing but a killer," Mary muttered to Luke. "Your dad is. So is...so is your brother."

"Careful, Mary," Sylar warned.

"Is that why you're here?" Mary went on. "To kill us?"

"The thought has crossed my mind," Sylar admitted. "More than once actually." After horrified looks passed between Mother & son, Sylar went on with a short wave of his hand. "Relax. I'm playing. Really, you both need to lighten up."

"What about Dad?" Luke fumed at his mother. "Or...or whatever I should call him now. Does he know?"

"No one but Sam & I did before now," Mary answered. "For all anyone else knows, you're Campbell, not Gray."

"Ah yes," Sylar nodded in agreement. "You might want to keep the Campbell name. We Gray men, well, we're not very good friends with the law or with any company set up to study us Specials. If they get their hands on you..." Sylar snapped his fingers & sat back.

"Great," Luke huffed, leaning back & crossing his arms.

"Can I have that picture?" Mary suddenly asked.

Sylar shrugged & passed it over. "I must ask one thing, what did you ever see in my father anyway?"

"It was nothing really," Mary shrugged. "He may be a lot older but he was nice to me."

Sylar scoffed & said under breath, "He murdered my own mother right in front of me."

"I didn't think anything much of him," Mary went on. "Just an old guy who was alone. But then...then I found an album. It had horrible pictures in it."

"Each & every kill he ever made?" Sylar interjected. "I know the one. I have it."

"I thought it was just strange art collection at first but then I saw her picture," Mary paused as Sylar sat up straighter. "I saw a picture of her only in one other place in that house, holding a young boy. You with your mother. It was the same girl, but dead. Sitting in a car I think."

"Must have been right as he pushed her out!" Sylar stood right out of his chair faster than Mary or Luke could blink. "Where is it? I didn't see her!"

"You won't either," said Mary. "He caught me with it. He was so mad he ripped it out & threw it in the fire. I took that moment to run & never went back. Fortunately, Luke was with Anton at the time."

"I'm surprised he didn't kill you."

"Too old, I guess," said Mary. "Too slow to respond. Also I was in a door way, so it was just one step & I was out of his sight."

"You got lucky," Sylar huffed before turning to grab the chair he had only just sat in & hurl it into the nearest wall. "I can't believe it! My own mother in that book!" He put both hands on the mantle of the fireplace & stood silent a while. "I hate him." His whisper was barely audible.

"You're just like him," Mary said before she could think. Power slammed into her body & she was shoved backward against another wall.

Sylar glared at her as he held the frightened woman in place while still across the room. Luke stood up, glancing between the two but before he could do anything, another power burst pushed him back into a seated position. Sylar turned back on Mary, still pinned flat. "I am nothing like him. At all! You hear me?"

"You kill as much as...oh! Please stop!"

"He killed my mother in front of me. He sold me away. What kind of father is that?" The power bolt twisted tighter into her flesh. "He never once tried to stop," Sylar went on. "I did. Several times. It took a long time, longer than you'll ever now thanks to a nightmare but you know what? I beat it! I have it suppressed at last. That's far more than what I can say for that man. Dare to compare me to him again, I WILL kill you however."

"You beat it?" Mary repeated in a gasp. "Then what are you doing right now?"

Sylar cocked his head as if inspecting her more closely. "If I haven't, you'd be dead by now." He let go. Mary dropped forward on her knees, gasping. Sylar rounded on Luke still cowering on the couch. "So you're the one with that money."

"What?"

"Before I put him away, our father said that he put the money from selling me into a trust fund for someone," Sylar explained. "Must be you. But that doesn't make much sense. You weren't even born then. Why would he keep that money that long?"

"I don't know," said Luke. "Maybe he forgot about it until I was born?"

Sylar closed his eyes & pinched the bridge of his nose as he tried to think. He hated it but he finally resigned himself to the fact that he had to visit that man one last time. He felt like he was missing something relevant. Sylar gave up & headed for the door. "Luke, you mind yourself. You have Gray blood, remember." He stepped outside & took to the air.

"My God!" Mary cried. "I thought he would never leave."

Luke picked up the picture of him as a small boy. Turning it over, he read the note, "My 2nd son, Luke Age 7."Luke rubbed his tired eyes with one hand, realizing just how relieved he was now that Sylar—now that his half-brother—had gone.

* * *

**Noah Bennet/Carol Strazzulla, Connecticut**

It was late into the afternoon the next day when Noah Bennet knocked on Carol's door. She opened it slowly & after a moment, let him in.

"Would like a coffee?" She offered, pointing Noah towards the living room.

"Please, that would be great," Noah went in to sit down. A few minutes later, coffee in one hand, he started as Carol sat down in front of him. "I'm sorry for your loss."

"I don't know if I am," Carol shrugged. "We drifted in the last few years. I would like to know what happened with Amanda though. I haven't heard from her in a while. Lydia's daughter, I mean."

"I could check into that later," said Noah.

Carol regarded him for a moment. "Really? Well, good luck finding her. She likes to hide sometimes."

"Trust me, I'm a pro at finding people whether they want it or not," Noah sat back with a slight scoff.

"So what business do you have with Lydia?" Carol got straight to the point.

Noah hesitated before answering. He took another sip of coffee & then set the mug aside on a nearby table. "Look there's no easy way to say this. You see, well I was wondering if you knew if Lydia was pregnant again when she died?"

"No idea," Carol shrugged. "Wouldn't be surprised if she was though; but it would be sad for the unborn baby."

"Yes," Noah agreed half-heartedly, trying to think. "Yes it would be. I need to find out for a friend of mine." Noah halted for a moment. Was Peter a friend of his? "I would need to exhume her body to find out. With your permission of course?"

"Exhume her?" Carol repeated, making Noah almost flinch at the tone. "Is her being pregnant or not that important?"

"Yes but I can't tell you more right now," Noah went on truthfully. What the hell was Peter getting both of them into anyway? "It would only take a couple hours. I'd pay for everything of course."

"Does this have to do with these abilities?" Carol went on. "I know what Lydia could do & Amanda. We've been through something like this before with Amanda."

"I remember."

"I saw your daughter jump of the Ferris Wheel."

Noah glared before going on, "I think it does. Peter is actually a mimic & can have any ability he comes in contact with. He used to be able to retain all of them."

"This Peter," Carol began. "He would be the father?"

"Yes," said Noah, thinking that perhaps Peter might be. Why else would Peter have asked for this?

"A mimic, huh?" Carol muttered. "I've heard of someone like that using an alias of Sylar."

"Oh, no, he is not the same person," said Noah. "That is Gabriel Gray, not Peter."

Carol stood up & walked to the window. After staring outside for a minute, she turned back to Noah. "Would Sylar want Amanda?"

"Probably, if he knew about her."

Carol sighed heavily. "Amanda can be a freak at the best of times but...I don't want her dead either."

"I'll look for her," Noah started. "But only if you let my check Lydia first."

Carol left to refresh both their coffees, taking time to think it over. Upon her return, she passed another cup to Noah as she said, "Fine. Do it & get it over with."

* * *

**Micah, New Orleans**

Micah was sitting on the back porch, engrossed in a video game. A sudden gust of wind swirled through the hot evening air. Micah suddenly found it hard to see his game as a shadow loomed over him. Glancing up, he locked eyes with a wild man who had blades in each hand. Worried, Micah glanced around but found that he was alone with the stranger.

"You're that Rebel boy, aren't you?"

"Who wants to know?" Micah asked.

"I'm Edgar," he lowered his blades a little. "I need help to find my daughter."


	11. Chapter 11

Alright, if I had known what a bad sort of year I was about to have, I would have waited to start posting this until later. Besides my Grandmother, we had a few other family deaths through-out the year. So, here's hoping this year is better. I have done a bit of writing for this & hopefully will be able to post a bit more often now.

(I've also recently completed a little Sherlock/John, called "Broken Bow" based on Sherlock BBC series for those into Sherlock Holmes as well.)

Anyway, try try again right?

* * *

**(11) Dead Horizons**

**Noah Bennet**

Noah was returning home from Connecticut. His plane had landed a few moments before & was just pulling his car out of the reserved parking lot to head home when he suddenly realized that he wasn't alone. Noah slammed the brakes & the car came to a screeching halt. He glared at the mirror as someone smiled & waved. "Hiro. Good to see you again. How did the wedding go?" He put the car in gear again, now that he had recovered.

"Very well!" Hiro bowed his head for a moment. "Kimiko! Very beautiful."

"Ah, I believe it," said Noah. "I expect pictures."

"Oh yes," Hiro passed a camera over. "I forgot the last time."

"Last time?"

"We just did this," Hiro explained. "You asked for wedding pictures so I had to go back in time, get my camera & start over."

"Right," Noah looked through a few of them while waiting for a light change. "She is quite pretty in that dress. So sorry I missed it." Noah put the camera aside to concentrate on driving. "Why are you here?"

Hiro pushed up his glasses, looking serious, almost mad. "The Cheerleader. She has made a big mistake."

"You'll get no argument from me," said Noah. "I had to send Claire home to her mother since reporters started swarming the school looking for her. Until I figure out what to do, I don't want Claire in the public eye. But don't tell her I said that."

"A very good decision," Hiro agreed. "Peter Petrelli was once in the future with exposed Specials. The world would crack apart with all the extra abilities."

"He went to the future?" Noah asked. "Did he mention anything about a child?"

"A child? No. Just abilities & Claire."

"He's been looking for a child," Noah went on. "He thought perhaps Lydia Strazzulla was the mother but she isn't. I was planning on calling him when I got home."

"Peter would make a very good father," Hiro smiled at the thought of Peter with a baby.

"Would he?" Noah half-retorted. "He & Sylar apparently have become very close friends quite literally over night."

"What do you mean?"

Noah sighed heavily, turned onto the road on which he lived & launched into an explanation. "I don't really know what either of them are up to," he finished. "but besides figuring them out, I also have to look for Gretchen Berg & Amanda Strazzulla. Both have gone missing."

* * *

**Micah & Jessica, Tracy's training center in Savannah GA**

Tracy Strauss finally managed to open the door. Micah was standing outside in the pouring rain. "Boy! You get in here now!" She grabbed his collar & yanked him inside. "What did you think you were doing?"

"I just wanted to find Jessica," Micah began.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Tracy demanded. "I would have gone for her. Instead you risk your own life & those of your friends. Now Sylar? You dare come here after you've met Sylar? He will kill us all!"

"He took Luke."

"Well, what did you expect Micah?" Tracy folded her arms, glaring. "Free passes since you're Rebel?"

"We never thought Sylar would find us," Micah tried again.

"Young man," Tracy interrupted. "Once Gabriel Gray decides to hunt, we're all dead if he comes across our way." Micah stared at the floor as she went on. "I wouldn't be surprised if his name goes down into children's stories to threaten them if they're not good. 'Now go to sleep or Sylar will get you in the night.' I can just see it now." Tracy huffed indignantly. "Oh, go on into the living room. Jessy's waiting for you." She angrily pointed in the general direction.

"Jessica?" Micah looked around & found her sitting by the fireplace, reading.

She put her book aside & stood up. "Tracy told me all about Sylar." Micah burst into tears & half ran, half fell into her arms. "Oh Micah! Is it really true? Was that really Sylar?"

"Luke's dead, isn't he?"

Jessica could say nothing, only relive the horrible stories Tracy told her over again in her mind. An attempt on a little girl named Molly Walker. Bob Bishop. Elle Bishop! Dear Lord, he slaughtered a whole family? The Cheerleader. Jessica felt cold whenever she thought of her. That Cheerleader could not die. That meant Sylar...no no, don't think of that! "At least you're safe," she finally managed to say.

"Yeah, thanks," Micah muttered flatly sat down in a chair opposite from Jessica's. "So how's your study going? Do you know what your power does exactly?"

"It's a kind of telepathy," Jessica started. "Bit different from Matt Parkman's though. I can read minds but not to clearly right now unless it's another telepath. My eyes change color when I use my power."

"Really?"

"Yeah, want to see?"

"Sure!"

"Ok," Jessica settled herself more comfortably on her chair. "Just don't think of things guys like to think about. You know, porn & whatnot!" She smiled wickedly at Micah's horrified expression before trying to read his mind. Of course, now that she mentioned it, Micah tried to think of anything but what she said, failing miserably.

Jessica's eyes swirled from her common brown to a pulsating blue as Micah felt something touch his mind, softly like a feather. After a few moments, she pulled out, eyes returning to normal. "You're going on another rescue?"

"Yeah," Micah nodded. "Edgar's daughter, Amanda Strazzulla is missing."

* * *

**Claire, Coste Verde**

Claire arrived at her old home somewhat out of sorts. All she wanted to do was go back to college & look for Gretchen, hoping that her friend had returned to school by now. But no! Instead she was forced to come here. Literally forced. Her father had sent Rene along as a chaperon. She had foiled the man once & for that, Rene had never forgiven her. He kept an annoyingly close eye on her for the whole trip. Glaring non-stop.

So here she was, Rene's hand on her shoulder as if she were a small child needing to be steered around. Claire sighed heavily & finally was bold enough to push the Haitian's hand away. "Really? I think I can handle it from here." Rene only glared some more but didn't speak. It was as if he was no longer talking to her & had sunk back into the muteness of before. Claire sighed again & opened the door. "Mom? Mom, I'm home. Hi Mr. Muggles!" She picked the dog up & stepped inside, Rene close behind.

"Claire?" Sandra came out of the kitchen. "Oh thank goodness you're safe."

"Mom, Gretchen is still missing," Claire started after disentangling herself from a hug. "Dad won't let me go back & look for her."

"It's all over the news," said Sandra. "She's still not back & there are others looking for you."

"I should be there!"

"Claire, listen to me," Sandra pushed her daughter towards the living room. "Rene, help yourself in the kitchen. Now Claire," Sandra sat down. "There are people there who want to talk to you about...about, you know, what you did at the Carnival."

Claire's face went from neutral to angry before one could blink. "So that's why Dad sent me home! It has nothing to do with Gretchen. Oh! He's as bad as Peter! I'm going back there."

"No Claire!"

"Mom this is exactly why I jumped!" Claire shot back at her. "People need to know. I'm not hiding any more."

"I know," Sandra actually agreed. "But there are those who would take advantage. Just wait for your father. He's coming here tomorrow. We can control how you go about this. We're not stopping you Claire. Just keeping you safe."

"Really?"

"Yes," said Sandra. "Right now, Gretchen is more important. Your father IS looking for her ok? Now, what happened?"

Claire hesitated before launching into a full explanation, finishing with, "So now I'm stuck here while Sylar is looking for MY friend. Peter's against me & it's like Dad is too."

"That man will never leave you alone," Sandra muttered.

"Oh I'll find a way to destroy him," Claire said. "Besides which, I think he is kind of staying away from me. He doesn't seem to like me right now, which I'm perfectly happy with."

"You actually believe that monster?"

"There is one thing about Sylar that separates him from almost everyone else; Dad. Rene. Even Peter, sometimes also you." said Claire, standing up & sending her mother a withering look. "He at least, has yet to lie to me. I need to make a call. Excuse me."

"Claire," Sandra murmured to herself, watching her daughter climb the stairs while dialing a number.

Claire listened to the ring tone & rolled her eyes as it went to voice mail. "Hey where are you? Did you get that information about abilities yet? Call me back. Haven't heard from you in ages!" She hung up & tossed the thing on her bed, looking rather annoyed.

* * *

**Mohinder Suresh, India**

Mohinder left Mira who was dozing on the couch & stepped outside, phone in hand. The evening was hot & windy, sending heat waves over the ground. He sighed, waiting to connect. After a few moments, he finally heard Matt Parkman's voice. "Hi Matt? I found out who it is. The one who came after Mira & my old research papers I mean. Robert Jenkins."

"Robert Jenkins?" Matt repeated. "Where is he now?"

"Dead. Resisted arrest one to many times. They ended up having to gun him down. So they say."

Matt huffed & rubbed his brow with a forefinger. "Well that's helpful," he muttered sarcastically. "How's Molly doing?"

"She fine," Mohinder answered. "Really liking her school. By the way, Mr. Jenkins was working for an American, uh let me check, Daniels. Arlin Daniels."

"Arlin Daniels?" Matt exclaimed.

"You know him?"

"Yes, the Rebel Team recently got mixed up with him," Matt explained, mentioning some girl who seemed to be able to read minds.

"There's more," Mohinder went on when he could. "I'm missing some of my papers. The ones that deal with creating & destroying abilities."

"That formula again?"

"Not really," Mohinder said. "I was trying to fix Maya remember? My formula I made wasn't good. I kept a few copies, meaning to go back & try working on it again but haven't had the time yet."

"I see," said Matt, thinking. "Was he in contact with anyone else here in America?"

"Mostly just Mr. Daniels," said Mohinder. "But recently he's been communicating with someone on the West Coast, in California. Searching for that number right now actually." There was a long silence over the line. Matt was just about to say something when he heard Mohinder gasp. "Oh no! Matt? You're not going to believe this. At all!"

"Found a name?"

"You bet I found a name," Mohinder all but growled the name out over the phone.

"Can you repeat that please?" Matt dropped his coffee cup to the floor where it shattered.

"Claire Bennet!" Mohinder said again. "What the hell is she doing?"

"What do you think, Mohinder? Destroying abilities? It's obvious, isn't it?"

Mohinder nodded to himself before saying, "My God. She really is going after Sylar."

* * *

**Amanda Strazzulla, New York, New York**

It had been several weeks since her mother's murder. Alone now, Amanda had fled the Carnival soon after. Now she wandered through back alleys at night, keeping out of sight. Her mother was dead. Her Aunt Carol didn't get along with her much. Her father was gone some place or other & who even knew if he was still around?

Amanda stepped into a late-night café & used what little money she had to buy a muffin. She sighed heavily, knowing she would need to find a job fast. She had one purpose in mind but needed money to do it.

Kill her mother's murderer. Amanda knew more or less where he was & had the very power to simply make him explode. But getting to him would be costly. She sighed again, stood up & walked back to the counter. Here was as good a place as any to start looking for a little work.

* * *

**Luke Campbell, Newark, New Jersey**

Mary busied herself as best possible cleaning randomly throughout the house. Luke had locked himself in his room ever since Sylar had left. At least he wasn't asking questions. Mary didn't want to explain anything else today. She had enough excitement to last a while.

Luke lay sprawled on his back across his bed, laptop rising & felling with his chest as he breathed. He went straight to his Facebook to locate Micah.

_Hey get a new phone! Been wanting to call you. He's my brother, well half anyway._

Luke didn't need to name who. The entire Rebel Team had seen him taken away to the stars by that man. He put his computer aside. He was a Gray? With Samson Gray as his father & Sylar as his half-brother, what did that make him? Luke tossed a weak wave of power between hands. Both those guys were power mimics. Luke wondered if he had, or could have, more than one power too? He watched his power wave spark & crack between hands. It was mostly a microwave. Mostly. But he could change it a little to burn through certain materials. He may not have multi-abilities like his Gray side, but he did seem to have one ability that was multi-purpose at least. Did that count? Luke remembered Sylar's warning: "Meaning, you, like any Gray man, are quite capable of killing without a second thought." Luke huffed & sat up. Sylar was wrong. He was only half Gray. Luke didn't want to kill. At least not like Sylar, without a second thought. Or a first one for that matter. Killing that agent a few years ago was self-defence, not cold-blooded murder. Right? Right? Of course it was!

Defending Sylar of all people! Luke lay back again with a groan, head hitting his pillow hard. He would not be like Sylar or his—their—father.


	12. Chapter 12

**(12) Power Play**

**Sylar, New Jersey**

The building was as large as Buckingham Palace but that was the end of similarity. Instead of majestic glory, this one rose dark & grey into an equally dark & gray sky. Its outer cement walls were at least three feet thick. Surrounding its yards on four sides were two tall fences. The inner one wasn't as high, perhaps sixteen feet & was the usual wire fencing one sees around schoolyards, apart from the height. The outer one was far more menacing. It was a wall twenty feet high, made of thick wires one could hardly put their hands around...if the electricity coursing through them was shut off that is.

Sylar let Buell idle nearby & stepped up to the guard to be let in. Once through the barriers, he rode down the long straight drive to the double door. Over the top of this entrance were written in large black letters 'High Security Prison of New Jersey'. Leaving Buell out of the way, Sylar entered & made his way down, accompanied by two guards. The building was just as large underground & it was here where most of the solitary confinement cells were. Past those & then down yet one more flight of steps was one more lower level. Throughout the trek from outside down to this final level, Sylar had noted that despite it being a large prison, it was almost empty. He decided not to ask yet as he had more pressing matters on his mind & hoped that Agent Davidson knew what he was doing, using this place for a Special. Sylar decided to have a talk with that man later. The last stairs lead to one cell on its own. It had a glass window which Sylar stepped up to, nodding to the guards who took the hint & returned up the stairs but no farther.

"Well, well now. What's this?" came a teasing voice. Samson Gray turned his head towards the glass. He was strapped down to his bed & fed a constant stream of drugs so that he was barely awake & unable to use his powers. "Come to see me die off, dear boy?"

Sylar glared indignantly, not sure what annoyed him more. Dear or Boy? "I came to ask you a question."

"Oh? What do you want?"

Sylar inwardly groaned. Even though the man was locked down rather well, his overly-chipper mood really, really needed to be destroyed. It was aggravating. "What did you do with that money?"

"Money?"

"You know of what I speak."

"You're not still going on about your sale price, are you? Goodness me."

"I know about my brother, Luke."

"So? It isn't for him."

"I kind of figured that out!" Sylar finally snapped, nearly charging head on for his father before remembering the glass between them.

"You have quite the temper, dear boy," Samson continued. "You should learn to control it."

"I got it from you so blame yourself."

"Actually, you got it from your mother."

"How dare you?" Sylar raged, this time throwing himself at the glass. He sighed heavily, leaning his forehead against it.

"You looked just like her when you did that."

"Enough!" Sylar pounded on the glass in frustration. "Just answer the question so I can leave."

"Leave?" Samson laughed softly. "You & I both know that you belong in a cell right next to me."

"It doesn't matter in a hundred years from now since I can't die."

"Sucks to be you."

"It's the other way around," Sylar glowered. "You'll soon rot somewhere in the ground & be forgotten, even by me probably in a millennia or two. I'll always be here."

"You think that now because you're young," Samson shrugged. "But in a millennia or two, you'll tire of it."

"I tire of you," Sylar muttered. "Just answer me."

"I already told you, it's in a trust fund for someone," Samson began.

"Who is it?" Sylar demanded.

"You know exactly who it is," Samson went on. "Don't you remember?"

"I blocked as much of my life with you out of my mind as possible," said Sylar.

"Not my problem," Samson leaned back in his chair. "Why don't you put that pretty Cheerleader's power to use & heal your mind then?"

"Go to hell!" Sylar exclaimed. "I'd say 'See you there!' but since I'll never die, this is the last time we see each other." He started to walk away.

"Since you'll never die," Samson began, laughing softly. "You'll never see your dear mother or auntie in heaven either."

Sylar froze mid-step, consumed with a sudden hate & rage. Using lightening, sonic scream & Telekinetics all at once he ripped through the glass & was at his father's throat within a second. The man was still laughing, louder now as Sylar hauled him off his bed & threw him across the floor. "I hate you!" With that, he finally did what his father wanted all along. He cut through his father's skull, knelt down & glared at the exposed brain.

"About time," Samson whispered as he slowly passed out. "Thank you."

Sylar didn't care. He heard the guards come running down the stairs as he glanced at the base of his father's brain. The part with abilities was swollen & there were many he did not have. _Might as well ..._ Sylar thought to himself darkly. He touched the spot just as the guards reached the landing & started yelling at him but it was too late.

Pain shot through Sylar's body, imploding within him like a sheet of ice. Burning cold seared his flesh. He tried to pull away from his father but the connection between his fingertips & the brain held firm as if he had grabbed a live wire. Sylar felt more pain as several bullets entered him but he didn't care. Hopefully whatever death it might give him would end the suffering.

* * *

**Noah Bennet, Coste Verde**

"Claire, I'm not trying to stop you," Noah tried explaining. "You're mother & I just feel that whatever your next step is should be carefully controlled. You know what it's like having an ability. People would want to use you. Study you. This is exactly why I wanted to keep it quiet. Can't do that now after your little stunt."

"Even Hiro wants me to call it a hoax," Claire complained.

"Yeah well, perhaps you should listen to him," Noah said. "He knows things from the future that we don't."

"I do know," Claire went on. "Peter told me everything but that isn't what I want to do. I just want to let others know what I can do & that there are others like me. I'm not going to start creating abilities for non-specials. Whoever is going to do that, will do it anyway whether I'm out or not. This way perhaps we can warn others ahead of time before one considers trying to create an ability."

Noah sighed heavily. When did Claire become so independent anyway? Why couldn't she be just a little girl who would pick out his glasses for him? "Well you got your wish. I've already set up an interview for you with some top non-Special scientists in the world sometime in about two weeks. I'll take you up to Washington to get ready."

"What about college & Gretchen?"

"I'm looking for Gretchen as well. As to college," said Noah. "since you opened this can of worms, I don't think you can go back there. I've already had to stop a few Company agents trying to get their hands on you. Again! I'll take care of your education. Don't worry. For now, it's better to keep you safe, plus you're starting to gain a few fans that you need to take care of." Noah handed over a stack of letters. "Your mother has been finding these in the mail. You can have them now that we're all together."

"I have fanmail?" Claire laughed sheepishly. Then she glared at Sandra. "Just how long were you keeping these from me?"

"Sorry dear," Sandra held up her hands. "I was merely waiting for your father to come visit."

"Now go pack up," Noah went on. "We need to get going. It may be two weeks away, but there's a lot of work to do beforehand."

Once Claire had disappeared, Sandra turned to Noah. "I'm not so sure about this."

"It's what she always wanted," said Noah. "She finally got her wish. I don't like it either but we have to deal with it."

"But what about what Hiro & Peter say?" Sandra worried. "Abilities end up destroying the world. You said this Hiro was a time traveler. Why can't he go back & stop Claire from jumping?"

"Too big a butterfly," said Noah. "Time travelers have this code that they can not meddle with the past or things in the present & future can become so altered that everything is ruined. It'll be alright. So long as we keep Claire close & don't let anyone take her away. We can control it."

"Doug & I will see you up there in a few days."

Hating the reminder of the new man, Noah said nothing. He merely nodded to Claire who had returned & then headed for the door.

The next few days were busy for the both of them.

* * *

**Amanda Strazulla, New York, New York**

Amanda unlocked the back door to the little café where she had been working at for over a week now. She usually had the opening shift & she was glad since it was the busiest time of day. She started the coffee & latte machines, straightened a few tables & chairs & then opened the store for the day. Julio, her boss would show up in about an hour & by then, the day would fly by fast.

"Hi, Mandy," her partner said from behind as he fussed about the cash register.

Amanda laughed softly at the pet name. "Hey Mark. Ready for the day?"

"Do I look like I've had a dozen cups of coffee yet?" Mark saluted by holding up his mug.

"Nah, maybe three but not a dozen yet," Amanda teased back. Mark scoffed & went back to his work. Amanda watched for a few moments, feeling sad. She actually liked the place, maybe even liked Mark but the time to leave was much sooner than she had let on when she was hired. It was only to make a little money & then it was a journey across the country to Washington State. Where in that state she wasn't quite sure yet, but Amanda would find out once there. Would she ever come back? Hopefully, she would.

Once Julio had arrived, he kicked them both out for a short break. Mark snatched up a newspaper off the stand on the way out to the patio. He & Amanda sat down at the farthest table in the corner for some coffee. Amanda split a muffin to share as well. After a few minutes silent reading, Mark grunted before saying, "Well now, what do you think of this?"

"What?"

"Remember that trick at the carnival in New York a while ago?" Mark asked. "Some chick jumped the Ferris Wheel but survived without a scratch."

"Oh that," Amanda muttered. "Yeah." She didn't really care since she was secretly planning the death of said 'chick's' father.

"Well, the gal's in Washington right now," Mark went on. "She's going to have an interview & be on TV about how she can heal like that."

"That's nice," Amanda shrugged.

"I thought it was just a carnival stunt."

"No it wasn't," said Amanda. "In fact, there are others like her but with different powers."

"You actually believe this stuff?"

Amanda shrugged again. "It's no big deal. You've heard of people reading minds or moving things without touching them, right?"

"Telepathy & Telekinetics," Mark said. "But that's just stunts right? Just like how people say they can read Tarot cards or palms. It's just a money gimmick, isn't it?"

"Well, for things like that yeah," Amanda said. "But I'm not talking about magic. I just mean a power someone can do is all. I've known a few."

"Do you know this girl?" Mark held up the picture.

Amanda stared at it & then pulled the paper from his hands. "I've seen her around, yes. She's ok, I guess." She continued to stare at the picture. Claire meant nothing to her but standing behind her...was him! She tried to read but Mark went on.

"Can you do anything?"

"Probably," Amanda wasn't really listening, too busy trying to read.

"Like what?"

"Just stuff," Amanda muttered. She soon lost the paper. "Hey!"

"You're not listening to me."

"I'd rather not talk about it anymore," Amanda said. "You'll probably think I'm a freak or something. It's hard to control what I do anyway so I don't use it much."

"Being freaky is ok," Mark pressed.

Amanda glared at him. "Fine, put your cup down & hold the paper far away. I want to read that article after." Mark did so & looked at her. "Watch the cup but don't get close." The cup shook & rattled for a long time. Suddenly it exploded, coffee splattering everywhere.

"Ah! That's hot!" Mark yelped, rubbing away the drops.

"See? Told you."

"Give me a penny."

"A penny?"

"Yep," Mark held the coin she handed over between his thumb & forefinger of his right hand. He rubbed at it & slowly but surely, the penny changed. He handed the coin back to her. It had been upgraded to a nickel. "I can manipulate money, but only coins. Give that back & I'll turn it into a dime, then a quarter. I can turn it all the way into a dollar coin but that's as far as I can go. I've tried with the notes but it won't work."

"You have a power," Amanda whispered. "What was all talk about magic & gimmicks then?"

"Just testing you," Mark shrugged, leaning back in his chair. "I wanted to see if you'd be scared of me. I didn't even think you might have a power."

"Good idea," said Amanda. "OK, next question. What are you doing here? You can make yourself rich!"

"I am, but it's a slow process. It's quite tiring to upgrade coins. I turn every quarter I touch into a dollar & store it away," Mark sighed before going on. "Besides, he's my dad & I'm just here to help him for now. But I do have plans & I'll have enough money for them soon."

"I see," Amanda wiped the spilled coffee away & pushed the broken pieces into a napkin. "Can I have that paper now?"

Mark passed it over. "Dad doesn't know. I didn't think I could tell any one. Now with this girl exposing her power, maybe I can do the same. Perhaps it isn't that bad."

"Don't be so sure," Amanda warned. "One, you can make money easily. Two, you can die. She can't. Sylar is one of us remember."

"Sylar?"

"You don't know?" Amanda stared as Mark shook his head. "He was at that carnival a few times while I was there. I was never more scared in my life. At the time though, he seemed to have memory problems but they're cleared up now."

"What's so bad about that?"

"He's a serial killer but mostly for us Specials," Amanda explained. "He can collect our powers by ripping the brain open."

"Ripping the brain open? I've read about deaths like that," Mark said. "So that's what it was about?"

"Uh-huh," Amanda nodded.

"Wow, guess I'm staying in the dark until he's dead."

"Slight problem there," said Amanda. "That girl in this article? One of his victims."

Mark rubbed both hands through his hair as he stared at Amanda who had turned to reading. Claire Bennet was going on air next Friday. The entire Bennet family would be with her at the time. Not on air perhaps, but in the same place. Seattle. Amanda smiled to herself. She had him at last. Then she glanced around at the little café. The time to leave was a bit sooner than even she had planned.

"We'd better get back," Mark stood up.

"Mark, when do we get paid?" Amanda got up to follow.

"Every Thursday."

Amanda nodded silently. Thursday. She would be gone by that night. She glanced around inside, noticing already a few familiar customers she liked. The old couple in the corner always arguing over what to have but always getting the same thing every day. The mom with two kids & a dog who always got a day-old muffin. The small gang of teenagers that she would gossip with whenever possible. It would be very sad leave, but she had no choice.

Amanda stopped spending even her tips for the next few days, slipping scraps of bakery products or sandwich material into a napkin whenever she could so she could still eat a little. It was only for a few days. All she needed was a one-way plane ticket to Seattle. After that, perhaps she could work her way back here.

The final night at her "home", she carefully packed her bag. The next morning would be spent at work & then she planned to be on the plane by the evening. Amanda checked around the garage she'd been hiding in, which was easy since whoever owned the place had not been around the whole time, most likely out on vacation. Then she headed out to work for the last time.

* * *

**Micah/Edgar, Tracy's Center**

"I've been over every machine in New York twice, using my internet," Micah said, tiredly putting Jessica's laptop aside. "She's not there."

Edgar polished off one of his blades, making Micah nervous. "It was mayhem when Lydia died. Amanda could have fled anywhere."

"If anyone's seen her, would they have told you?"

"Only, Lydia, Carol & I know I'm her father," said Edgar. "I haven't been with the family much. I doubt any one else knows unless they said so."

"I'll keep looking as soon as I get something to eat."

"You should rest a bit."

Micah turned to look at him. "I would like that."

"I'm making you nervous with these," Edgar held a knife up. "aren't I?"

"A bit," Micah admitted.

"Never mind them," Edgar shrugged, slipping it away much to Micah's relief. "I polish them when I'm nervous. It has nothing to do with you. So long as I know you're looking for her, it's fine."

Micah nodded & disappeared for a while. He came back with a plateful of sandwiches for the both of them. "I'm not the only one looking for her. Noah Bennet is to."

"What would he want with her?" Edgar all but snapped.

"I don't think anything," said Micah. "He did visit Carol Strazzulla a while ago. She must have asked for his help because Bennet has been putting out feelers for Amanda ever since. It's all over the 'Net."

"It is?" Edgar gasped, appalled.

"Not like that," Micah snickered softly. "I mean, in my way. How I can see it."

"Oh, right," Edgar lapsed into silence.

"We should both get some sleep," Micah said after a while. "I'll try again tomorrow. Tracy has a room set up for you."

"Thanks," Edgar cracked his back in a few places as he stood up. "I hope we find her."

"We will," assured Micah. "She's bound to step into the light sooner or later." He put his hands to the laptop once more.

"I thought you were going to bed?"

"I am in a minute," said Micah. "I'm just ordering a new laptop & phone since mine are destroyed."

"Alright, goodnight."

"Night," Micah paused for one last thing. Now on his own time, he quickly scanned through his emails. His eyebrows disappeared into his thick curls as he messaged Luke back:

You're alive! Your half-brother? Freaky!

Micah worked long hours for the next several days trying to find the girl. He fanned out from New York in all directions but there was nothing. No camera. No purchase. It was as if she was gone from the planet. He was about to give up one night & go to bed when it happened. Finally.

"Edgar!" Micah flew down the steps three at a time. "Edgar?"

The man had his head on the table, a newspaper for his pillow. Fast asleep. Micah shook him awake. "Wh...uh?"

"She's going to Seattle!"

"When?" Edgar was suddenly fully awake.

"Right now!" Micah grabbed both their coats & threw one at him. "Let's go."

"You don't need to come," Edgar protested.

"It's my job. I'm head of Rebel Team! I'm going." Micah was already out the door.

Quicker than lightening, Edgar was behind Micah & grabbed him by the shoulder. "You're fault then."

"For what?" Micah barely had time to ask. Next moment his entire life was literally a blur as Edgar zipped through the states, dragging Micah in his speed.

"For that!" Edgar tossed the 'Head Rebel' to one side.

"Uhhh uhhhh uh uhhhh huuuhh uh!" Micah moaned, wobbling around before falling flat on his face. "Me. No. Feel good! Uhhhhhhh!"

"Welcome to the Seattle airport."

"Swwwweeeeellll!" Micah wheezed. He needed to pass out but it wasn't working properly.

* * *

**Amanda Strazulla, Seattle**

Amanda had taken a cab from the airport to where the Bennett family were waiting for Claire to finish her interview. Now she stood in the basement carport of the News Daily building & surveyed the ramps rising above her to another parking zone. Just above all that, was Noah Bennet. Amanda was ready for him.

Claire stepped out from the stage at last & grinned widely at the family waiting for her. "That was awesome!"

"Let's hope," muttered Noah. "There's definitely no going back now."

"I'll be fine Dad," sad Claire. "So far, they seemed quite curious. They asked me a lot of questions."

"We know," Sandra put in. "We watched on that TV over there."

"Why don't we all grab something to eat & discuss the next interview?" Doug asked. "We only have two days before that one."

Noah glared at him & marched for the door of the stairwell leading down to the parking lots. "I have arranged for tight security for Claire starting now," he began.

"Dad."

"If you're doing this, you're going to do this my way, understand?" Noah snapped at her. Claire lapsed into silence.

They were on the highest lot now. Noah led them across to the elevator to go down to the bottom floor where both Noah's vehicle as well as Doug's were parked. The doors opened into a literal explosion of chaos.

Sandra & Doug were tossed back the way they had come with the first explosion. A small one that merely injured them. Claire landed somewhere on their left. Noah had barely enough time to register who came off the lift before a much larger explosion of heat & fire slammed into him.

Noah Bennet was falling freely, over the railing, three stories down to the carport below. He dimly heard the combined voices of Claire, Sandra & Doug screaming at him before one last blast consumed him.

* * *

**Sylar/Peter, Mercy Hospital, New York**

There was a constant beep, beep, beep invading his ears. He blinked a few times, trying to shut out the pounding light. When he could finally keep his eyes open, he noticed a rather angry-looking familiar face glaring down at him.

"Well look who finally decided to join the world of the living," Peter sighed heavily.

"Where...what? Where am I?"

"Taking up valuable space in one of my hospital's beds, you idiot!"

"What happened?" Sylar wondered how on Earth he got here. He didn't remember coming here.

"First things first," Peter leaned over him, pressing a hand to Sylar's forehead. "Are you OK? How do you feel?"

"Uh, fine, I guess." Sylar tried smacking Peter's hand away but the man either didn't notice or didn't care. If anything, he pushed more roughly on Sylar's brow.

"You guess? No pain or anything?"

"Um," Sylar mentally checked himself over, giving up on Peter's groping. "Not really, no."

"No?"

"No."

"Good!" Peter promptly punched Sylar so hard, he was nearly knocked out but for the Regen kicking in.

"OW! THE FUCK WAS THAT FOR?"

"Did it knock any sense into you?" Peter was beyond the 'Pissed Petrelli' glare. Way beyond. "Hmm? HMM? Well did it?"

"What's WRONG with you?" Sylar glared, rubbing his jaw. "Assaulting a patient in bed! My God, man! I could sue your ass. I should. I wil—OUCH FUCK OFF!"

Peter had punched him again. "You DO know that the only reason you're alive right now is because of the Regen, right? You know that, right?" He raised his fist again but Sylar put up a pillow.

"Stop hitting me or it'll be Kirby Plaza all over again."

"You have no right. NO RIGHT! To call out the Kirby Plaza right now!" Peter raged, ripping the pillow from Sylar's hands & throwing it aside. He pointed accusingly in Sylar's face. "I am SO upset with y—OW!" Peter went crossed-eyed with pain.

Sylar had just bitten that finger still in his face. "Yeah, yeah I can see that," Sylar muttered, holding up a second pillow. Peter retracted his hand to nurse his finger. "Will you please tell me what happened? I went to see my father, now I'm here."

"Oh!" Peter scoffed, back towards Sylar. Whether he was stupid or brave to have his back to Sylar after punching the murderer (more than once), no one would ever know. That said, he was probably the only one who could do that & live to tell the tale, not just because he had Regen either. "The only way I can say it is, over-power. You went into over-power."

"What?"

"You killed your father, which by the way I need to have another talk with you about that," Peter finally turned back to Sylar. "You went after all his powers, didn't you?"

"Oh," Sylar finally remembered. "Not really. It originally was about money. But Peter! He got what he wanted."

"What do you mean?" Peter finally sat down on the bed next to Sylar (who promptly put up a pillow again, just in case).

"Just something he said," Sylar told the whole story of what happened. "That last remark he said, about my mother & my aunt? It just... threw that switch in me I've kept off all these years." He referred to the nightmare years under Matt Parkman's power.

"You wanted him to die slowly with his cancer," Peter mused more to himself.

"That was before he made those comments," Sylar swung out of bed on the opposite side. "I, uh, better deal with it. His body, I mean."

"I already did that."

"Not that I care, but it wasn't your place," Sylar said. "He wasn't your father. But thanks. I really didn't want to deal with him further. So where is he? I doubt we need a funeral."

"Gabriel? It's all done & past," Peter stood up.

"You sure did a lot of work, getting rid of him & bringing me here," said Sylar. "Something like that takes...takes more than...Peter? How long was I out?"

"Almost three weeks."

Sylar turned sharply back to his friend & stared. "Three weeks?" His lips could barely form the words. "Three...Peter."

"Sorry," Peter shrugged. "There was nothing to do but wait for the Regen to finish its work. If it weren't for that, you would be dead. Not only for all the powers you downloaded at once but also, well Gabe, you did kill again. There's a few out for your blood just for that."

"Wouldn't be the first time," Sylar started looking around the little room. "I can deal with it. Where's my phone?"

"Should be in your jacket," Peter pointed at the closet, wondering why Sylar was nearly frantic.

"It can't be three weeks," Sylar gasped to himself, as he surfed through for a number. "It just can't be."

"Yeah well, it was."

Sylar held up a hand to shush his friend as someone finally answered. "Hello, Agent Davidson. Yeah, I'm back. Had no choice coming back being under Petrelli's 'delicate'" At that word, he glared at Peter. "handling."

Peter rolled his eyes as he muttered, "You deserved it."

"How is the search going for Gretchen Berg?" Sylar went on.

Peter stared at his friend's back. Slowly but surely, he started to smile to himself as something clicked in his brain. Despite denying that he wanted anything to do with Claire, Sylar's first thought was for her the moment he woke up. "So you still like her," he said to himself as Sylar hung up.

"I should have been there," Sylar tossed his phone onto the bed. "Maybe if I was there, we'd have found her."

"Still no sign of Gretchen?"

"No," Sylar shook his head. "The search was called off yesterday, saying that even if she ever was found, she's probably dead by now. He hasn't told Claire yet. I guess I better do that. I'm the one who said we'd find her."

"Oh, yeah, um about that," Peter began. "You might want to be quick. If the search is called off, the poor girl is going to have even more bad news to deal with."

"What do you mean?"

Peter sighed heavily, sat down on the bed & stared at the window. "Noah Bennet is dead."

"WHAT?" Sylar's face was half shock, half bemusement. He never really liked the guy to begin with. Oh but poor Claire! Must remain serious. He tried to recompose himself.

"Amanda Strazzulla got to him for killing her mom, Lydia," Peter went on. "Problem is, it wasn't even Noah who killed Lydia. It was Eli. We have the girl subdued right now." Sylar didn't need an explanation on how she was subdued. He has been through that with a Special company before.

"What's her power?"

Peter turned to glare over his shoulder in a 'don't-even-think-about-it' glare.

"What? Just asking. I'm not going to take it. I wasn't planning on Dad's powers either but since I was disposing of him, why let them go to waste?"

"You're hopeless," Peter grumbled. "She can explode things with her mind."

"So what, you mean that Noah...exploded?"

"Like I said, be quick with Claire."

"Alright, alright," Sylar quickly got dressed. "Sign me out of here already."

"Not so fast," Peter put a hand on Sylar's chest & pushed him back onto the bed.

"Are you seriously giving me a check up?" Sylar all but whined. "I have Regen. I don't need check ups."

Peter grabbed a chair & sat in front of Sylar. "I know that. We need to talk about the murder."

Sylar rolled his eyes. "It wasn't a premeditated thing like usual. Just my old man who, remember, was going to die in a couple days anyway."

"You still killed again," Peter pointed out. "Right after we both reintroduced you to the world as a changed man. Well, judging by that outburst, which most people will do, you don't seem all that changed."

Sylar tried to stand up but found he couldn't. "So, you have the Telekinetics right now? Not Regen?"

"Yes," Peter said. "Gabriel, relax. I'm not turning against you; however, I had a hell of a time keeping you out of Company hands, not to mention away from my mother & away from other people wanting to destroy you. I've come up with a compromise to, hopefully, satisfy everyone. Even you."

"What is it?" Sylar continued to glare, not liking the fact that he still couldn't move.

"Agents," Peter started. "They are set up in areas you won't even expect to watch you closely. You won't even know they're there since they won't look or dress like Company agents. Just common every day folk. The security around you will be high but not intrude so long as you don't put another toe out of line."

"What?" Sylar replied angrily. "You're setting up spies on me?"

"It's for everyone's protection, including yours," Peter went on. "It's either that, or the Company. You'd be strapped down & put under again & this time ... kept that way."

"Aww Peter!" Sylar buried his head in both hands for a moment. "What did you do to me while I was out?"

"I was trying to keep you safe," Peter stated again. "Hey, I'm watching over you to, ok? But I don't have eyes everywhere you go & I can't be with you 24/7 either. It's the best I can come up with for now."

"I'm not planning on killing again."

"I know that," Peter assured. "You just took a backward step concerning your father. So it'll take a little longer for people to warm up to you is all."

Sylar suddenly felt the pressure on him dissipate & he stood up at last. "I should get going. If I'm allowed that is?"

"Here's your release papers," Peter handed them over.

"I wasn't talking about that."

"I know what you're talking about," Peter tried not to snap. "I said they won't interfere so long as you keep out of mischief. You'll be fine." Sylar just nodded to him as he headed for the door. He'll deal with that issue later. "Hey Gabe? How many powers did you get out of the old man?"

Sylar smiled softly & then turned to leave. "All of them."


	13. Chapter 13

_**Previously on Heroes**_

_Amanda: The doors opened into a literal explosion of chaos._

_Noah Bennet: He was falling freely, over the railing._

_Peter: " Good!" He punched Sylar hard. "Over-power. You went into over-power."_

_Sylar: "The search was called off yesterday."_

_Jessy: "Oh hush! Arlin wouldn't hurt anyone."_

_Matt: /Who are you?/_

* * *

**(13) Don't Give Up**

**Claire Bennet, Costa Verde**

Clair sat on her bed, one leg crossed under her, the other hung over the edge. She was wearing a silk black dress that fell to her ankles. The half-long sleeves were laced in a design of flowers. Her hair fell loose over her shoulders, her eyes closed. She'd been sitting there for over an hour. It was dark outside by now but she made no indication of getting changed for the night.

The funeral for Noah Bennett was long since over. It seemed surreal. How often had people tried to kill him before? He had always sprung back. But this was real. It was no Company lie. It had happened right before everyone's eyes & there was hardly anything left but ashes. No amount of Regen-filled blood could bring them back. Sandra & Claire had waited a while, just in case it was another trick, in case someone had teleported Noah away from the heat & ash. Or something—anything—to save him. But with Peter & Rene's investigation, everyone knew that this time, Noah Bennet was gone.

So a memorial was finally held. Claire only moved enough to wipe her cheeks free of tears now & then. At least the killer was caught right away. For once it was not Sylar. Taking everyone by surprise, Amanda Strazulla had shown up out of nowhere & literally blasted Noah before he even had a chance.

Once recovered from the shock, Claire had charged after the girl & brought her down. She was subsequently turned in. Apparently her father was looking for the girl but Claire no longer cared. Claire's own father was gone. Both were, as well as her real mother. She only had one mother left. She made sure Amanda was held under by the Company.

She sighed heavily, taking in the cool night air tainted with the scent of the sea. The distant sound of the surf almost lulled her to sleep in that position. Claire didn't remember even opening the window, but was grateful that she had somehow managed that. When, she didn't know, not that it mattered.

Or did it? Claire sighed again. Why was it so important to remember if she had opened her window earlier or not? Slightly frustrated, she finally opened her eyes, looking first at the floor where her open-toed high heeled black sandals still lay askew. Raising her eyes slowly towards the window, she noticed black boots that she didn't think were hers. Looking higher, she realised with a jolt that they definitely weren't hers & also just how the window was open. "You fucking creep! Of all nights."

"Wow, Claire!" Sylar gasped & it seemed genuine. "I have never heard you swear before."

"Get out!"

"I'm not here to harras—"

"Your very presence harasses me. Especially now. Just leave!"

"I have a messa—"

"GO AWAY!" Claire hurled first one then the other of her little black sandals lying on the floor. Sylar deflected them out the window where they clattered to rest on the roof. "Come here to gloat huh? Say you're happy he's dead? I already know that! I don't need to hear it."

"Will you please lis—where are you going?"

"To get my sandals," Claire hoisted herself onto the window's edge & tipped out, ripping half her dress off in the process. "God! Damn! It!"

"How blonde of you," Sylar teased, stepping up to the window. He soon wished he hadn't as Claire had already launched both shoes back inside where they would have landed except that his fat ugly face got in the way.

"How blond of YOU!" Claire repeated, shoving back inside, not caring that Sylar was in the way. She tried causing him as much pain as possible, using him as support to get back inside. Nails. Grabbing hair. Anything to make him uncomfortable. Sylar eventually threw her to the bed using a mild power burst. "Can you just leave now?" Claire added once she righted herself. "I want nothing to do with you."

"Feeling's mutual. Believe me," Sylar grumbled. "I just need to tell you something & then I'll leave."

"It's called a phone. Use it!"

"I DON'T…" Sylar stopped & got his voice under control. "I don't actually have your number anymore."

"Well that makes you a very stupid stalker then," Claire shot back.

"What?" Sylar stared at her. "I'm not...I … Claire."

"Well it does. Deal with it."

"Can I just...state my business so I can leave?"

"Can't you just leave?"

"Fine. I will." Sylar made for the window.

"Don't let the pane hit your ass on the way out."

Sylar did his biggest 'Bitch-please!' eye-roll yet. "Fine. I just won't tell you that they quit the search for your lady-lover yesterday. I just don't care any more." He paused halfway out the window, waiting for a reply.

Silence. A whimper. A moan. More silence. "Gretchen?"

"Goodnight." Sylar was soon outside on the roof.

"Wait!" Claire ran to the window, tossing the fabric left by her dress aside. "What did you say?"

"I don't know. I forgot."

"Gabriel Sylar Gray! You repeat yourself this instant."

"I don't know. I forgot."

More silence, this time a very doomed calm before the storm. Claire suddenly squealed in rage making Sylar wince. Before he even recovered, Claire squealed again before huffing, "I hate you so much!"

"Hey, isn't that the first time you actually call me Gabriel?"

"SHUT UP!" shrieked Claire. "Tell me about Gretchen?" Sylar remained silent. "Tell me!" She demanded.

"How? You told me to shut up."

Claire slammed her window shut & tossed things around in her room. Sandals in the closet. The ripped off fabric over one chair. She came back to the window & reopened it. "Get in here or so help me God." She curled her fingers into his hair the moment Sylar started to come through the window again & hauled him through.

"Ow, ow. OW!" Sylar blasted her back to the bed, away from him. "That was uncalled for."

"Hey you ripped my scalp off. It's only fitting I try ripping yours." She crossed both legs under this time, sitting dead center of the bed. "Now, start talking."

Sylar glared at her a moment before finally launching into an explanation. He ended up sitting beside her on the bed. When she remained silent, Sylar put one hand over hers. She didn't pull away but she did turn her face away to stare at the wall. "Claire," Sylar whispered. With a flick of a finger, he powered her face back to look at him. "I won't stop looking. Understand?"

Claire sighed. She nodded once as she felt Sylar's power leave her face. She continued to stare at him; though not exactly seeing. She thought back to her father & Gretchen. Where did things go so wrong? Sylar lifted his hand from hers & put it against her face to put a thick loose curl of blonde behind her ear. She gasped at the feather light touch. How could he dare so? In a blink, Sylar was gone. She glanced around but he had disappeared. A new power? Or did she just imagine this in the first place?

* * *

**Jessica Havok, Tracy's Training Center, Savannah GA**

Jessica lay along the couch, reading a manual on gaming creation. She was getting back into her work of making video games, trying to finish one in a month for a convention. She looked up from the page, sensing more than hearing, that someone was coming. Jessica put the book aside & headed for the door.

/I've come to talk to you, Miss Havok./

Jessica's hand trembled just above the door handle. She didn't open it. /Who are you?/

/Another telepath./

/You're the one from the other night when I left Arlin./

/I'm Matt Parkman./ "Let me in," Matt sent a gentle push. Next thing he knew, he was lying on the ground in pain. The push had come back onto him & it hurt. /Miss Havok, I just want to ask you about Arlin Daniels./

/Professor Daniels is at my University./

/Why were you with him?/

/He was interested in a new game I'm working on. What do you want with him?/

/I think he's more than a game designer. Could you please let me in so we can talk? I mean no harm. You should sense that much./

Jessica sighed. She finally opened the door. "Hi."

"Hi," Matt began. As he was finally allowed to step inside, he went on. "I found some rather interesting information on Daniels. I thought you would either know about it or like to."

"He's harmless," Jessica said. "Though Micah claims he's after the Rebel Team. I do find it odd that Micah has a hard time reaching him through the internet though."

"What if I told you that he's a spider? He has threads to other Specials all over the place?"

"Well," Jessica crossed her arms & thought a moment. "I don't think he means any real harm. He is a rather private person."

"Mr. Daniels had a contact down in India," Matt began. "Robert Jenkins."

"Never heard of him," Jessica shook her head.

Matt noticed the change in eye color. "You're in my head?"

"Just following along with your thoughts."

"Your eyes change color when you use your power?"

"Pretty much, yeah," Jessica nodded. "So who's this Jenkins?"

"He is responsible for an attack on some friends of mine," Matt explained. "He stole some very important research papers about a serum to give powers to anyone. It doesn't work & needs to be perfected."

Jessica could sense that Matt was nervous about something. "What of it?"

"Jenkins had another contact up here," Matt went on after some hesitation. "The papers he stole for a broken formula were to go to someone else. I think they were going to change the matrix to ...to undo powers instead."

"What makes you think that?" Jessica pressed, literally into his mind.

"That formula is very unstable," Matt continued. "It shouldn't be messed with. In the wrong hands it could cause problems."

Jessica suddenly pulled out & her eyes changed back to normal. "The cheerleader & Sylar. Again with Sylar. Micah warned me about him." Matt nodded. "The cheerleader wants to destroy Sylar. What's so bad about that?"

"Nothing," Matt smiled. "But after Sylar, any of us could be next. Why would Mr. Daniels be involved with this? Claire I understand. Her & Sylar would rip the world apart with their constant fighting."

"Claire can't be the only one who has a problem with that man."

"No, but Claire, besides Peter, is the only one who's safe from Sylar," Matt said. "But we can't even trust Peter now. He is suddenly very protective of Sylar."

"That's your fault," Jessica said. "I felt it while I was reading you."

"I know!" Matt put his hands up in defence. He sighed in frustration. "Oh if I could turn back time, I'd have kept those two separate."

"Well, I'm going to a gaming convention in a month," Jessica said. "Arlin will be there. I'm going to introduce a new video game. It's in Las Vegas. You could come if you want & speak to him yourself."

"I would like that," Matt nodded. He handed over a card. "Here's my phone number." He tried a small push again. "Call me when you're ready." Matt was on the floor in pain again.

Jessica stared down at him. "Are you ok?"

"Yeah," Matt sat up. "Yeah I think so."

"Something wrong?" Jessica held out a hand to help him up.

"I don't know," Matt put a hand to his pounding head. "I have a massive headache. I think I'll take an asprin when I get home."

"You're pretty far from home," Jessica said. "I can get you one right now."

"Oh I'll be home in a minute," Matt pointed with a thumb over his shoulder. "Hiro helped me."

Jessica took a moment to think. "Ah yes. A time traveller right?"

"Yeah," Matt answered. "I'll see you soon."

* * *

**Edgar & Micah, (along the west coast)**

"Can we please stop doing that?" Micah gasped the moment Edgar dropped out of warp speed.

"Sorry," Edgar press up against the wall of the building. "They have my daughter in there. I need to get her out."

Micah rubbed his head. "I'll start looking for a way in."

"What is this place?"

"I don't know. But I don't like it!"


	14. Chapter 14

_(Please note: The character of Raines 'Nyota' Hanson is not mine but belongs to a friend.)_

**(14) Covert Plans**

**Angela Petrelli (along the west coast)**

Angela walked down the cold stone hall. More than half the building was hewn out of actual rock on an island, that was mostly rock, in the Pacific Ocean. Looking out the window towards the horizon, she could just see the haze of the mainland. She knew she was looking somewhere towards Seattle. Angela continued on her way. Carved out of the rock island, the place was virtually invisible without any special ability.

Angela came up to a glass pane where the Haitian Rene, was standing looking down into the room behind it. Angela followed his gaze, knowing what she would see. Amanda Strazulla was lying down on her bed, glaring at the ceiling. "How is she?" Angela asked.

"She's fine," Rene said. "She demanded to be let out earlier, but now she's under control."

Due to drugs, Angela knew. "It's too bad we couldn't carve this out faster. We could have had Samson Gray in here with the others. It's the best place for a Company building yet."

"There is a place for Sylar."

"Peter will have to accept that fact," Angela huffed, turning away. "We just need to find out where Sylar's been hiding. Noah almost had him. He would have, if it weren't for that girl in there!" She began walking down to the end of the corridor & opened the door.

Rene followed close behind. "What do you wish to do with her?"

"Keep her secured for now," Angela said. "Ah, Mr. Daniels. You finally managed to find this place."

"It took some doing," Arlin replied.

"Yes, I'm quite pleased with the Company's new building," Angela said. "It's just missing one important thing. Do you have it?"

Arlin shook his head "No, the man who was supposed to relieve Dr. Suresh of his research is dead." Angela closed her eyes, not pleased. "But I don't think that matters. He apparently was in communication with your granddaughter."

"What?" Angela suddenly glared at him.

Arlin stepped back. "Don't look at me. I don't know anything else about it."

"Oh that girl," Angela complained, leading both men to the cafeteria. "She can't have that formula. It needs to be locked away safely in here until someone can research it safely."

"Apparently, some files went missing," Arlin began pouring coffee for the three of them. "The ones pointing to destroying abilities."

Angela sat back in her chair. "Sylar." She shook her head. "Claire always thinks she can go after that man alone. It can't be done. The sooner she figures that out, the better. We are better off having Sylar in here, away from the world, for good. Until we can destroy him ourselves."

"I have a potential telepath at the University of Gaming Arts," Arlin put in. "I'm trying to befriend her. I'd like to have her work for me & she can be able to tell me exactly who to trust."

"Jessica Havok," Angela put her coffee down for a moment.

"You don't miss much do you?" Arlin laughed.

"She's different from Matt Parkman somehow," Angela mused. "I'd like to know more about her. Perhaps invite her here to the outer building. I want to run this Company different from the one destroyed as much as possible. We should be the ones responsible for those like us. Not outsiders."

"I'll try but the Rebel Team stole her away," Arlin sighed, pouring out more coffee for Rene's cup. Rene continued to remain silent, which unnerved Arlin but he tried to focus on something other than the muteness.

"That Rebel Team needs to be dismantled," Angela muttered.

"Good luck with that," Arlin replied. "By the way, I was thinking, we should come up with a name for this Company when we're around outsiders. The less anyone knows, particularly Specials, the better." Angela nodded her agreement, still thinking about Rebel Team.

* * *

**Claude Rains, Abigail & Lee, London England**

"Well it's about time!" Claude said as he opened the door.

Abigail & Lee stood outside, huddled together under an umbrella. "We're back!" They said in one voice.

""Come in. Come in!" Claude shoved them inside & closed the door. "Your Rebellion friends have missed you." He handed over a stack of a few cards. "I'm sure there's a lot more in your emails."

"We'll be getting back to work soon," Abigail said.

"We met Sparrow on the way home," Lee put in. "She was up in Ireland on vacation but is now heading back home to bug Micah, as she put it."

"So is Ireland the place where you had your honeymoon then?" Claude asked.

"Yeah," Abigail nodded. "We went into a restaurant in Cork. The strangest thing is, we saw Peter there."

"The New York Paramedic?" Claude was suddenly very interested.

"That's right," said Abigail. "He didn't see us. He seemed really interested in one of the girls who worked there though."

"So?" Claude shrugged. "He's a grown man. He's allowed."

"No I mean," Abigail tried again. "I think he knows her somehow. But she didn't seem to know him. When Peter was alone, I couldn't help but noticed he was upset about something."

Claude sighed. "Peter must be having a hard time with his broken powers."

"You think that's it?" Lee asked. Claude merely nodded. "Is there some way to fix him?"

"Yes but I have no idea what," Claude hesitated before adding, "yet." After questioning looks from the pair, he added. "The scarred one has all his powers. So it must have something to do with how he cut his face."

"Isn't Regen one of his former powers?" Abigail asked. "I can't see how someone who heals can get a scar."

"Peter can only have one power at a time right now," Claude reminded. "Not always Regen. It's most likely that he gets scarred & fully healed before he regains Regen."

Lee stretched his arms over his head & sighed. "Well, let Peter deal with his problem." He grabbed Abigail from behind, making her squeal. "We have some news!" Abigail batted him away. Lee just laughed at her. "We're pregnant!"

Claude smiled in surprise. "Really?"

"Yeah," Abigail nodded. "Well I am. He isn't. Obviously!"

"You're on Godfather duty," Lee added.

"I am?" Claude exclaimed. "That's great!"

"So, there's one thing we have to do," Abigail said. "Let Micah know that we're off the team for a while. It's a good thing he's finding some new recruits."

"It's a good thing we are off the team now," Lee added. "Micah didn't know at the time, but he went & hired the little brother of Sylar."

"What?!" Claude & Abigail exclaimed.

"Luke Campbell," Lee said. "Half-brother. Same dads. Different moms. What? One of us had to keep up on our emails this whole time!"

* * *

**Raines "Nyota" Hanson (Cordova, Alaska)**

"Hey Nyota, you mind locking up tonight?" A girl with long platinum hair came out of the double swinging door leading into the kitchens as she re-rolled her hair into a bun.

"Going to that party Savona?"

"Yep!"

"You think that guy will be there?"

"I hope so!"

"You're hopeless," Nyota laughed. "Fine, I'll lock up. I don't think we'll get many more people this evening anyway."

"Some guy came in for coffee," Savona said as she headed for the back exit. "He's at the fifth table."

"Alright," Nyota nodded, pushing back a curl of blonde hair behind her ear. "Have fun!"

"I hope so," Savona snickered, closing the door.

Raines 'Nyota' shook her head. Her best friend was probably the biggest slut in the whole wide world. Raines wouldn't be surprised if Savona ever came back to make moves on the man at the fifth table. She shook back her hair of long blonde natural curls & redid the clips holding the curls back, then picked up a basin & went out to wash down the tables. It was a small restaurant, but living nearly on top of the world, a smaller building was easier to keep warm. She noticed the man sitting in the corner by the windows, one on each side, looking over one of the papers. With a jolt, she sensed that something was very familiar about him. His hair was jet black & his eyebrows were thick over his eyes. He was dressed in jeans with a white shirt that was partly open. A heavy fur lined coat & gloves lay nearby. Raines made her way over, methodically washing each table as she passed. When she finally reached his table she asked, "Can I get you something else?"

The man looked up at her. "Just a refill would do thanks."

Raines left to get a fresh pot. After refilling the cup, she tried again. "So, what brings you to the top of the world?"

The man laughed mirthlessly. "I'm not quite sure really," He began. "It's something I found in my dad's house. Something about Alaska. So I've come up to check around."

"You'll be staying long?"

"Just a few days," the man shrugged.

"That in across the road is pretty good & cheap," Raines pointed out the window behind the man.

He looked back for a moment. "Alright, I'll use that. Thanks."

"No problem," Raines picked up a small plate. It slipped from her fingers & clattered to the floor where it broke in three pieces. She bent down to pick it up, withdrawing quickly when she ended up cutting herself.

"Are you alright?" The man asked.

Raines shook her hand. "Yeah it'll be fine in a moment." The cut disappeared & she reached out for the pieces again. The next thing she knew, something was in control of her & she was made to stand up, then sit across from this man.

"Now there are only three people alive I know of that can do that!" He eyed her like a hawk "Who are you?"

"Nyota!"

The man narrowed his eyes. "You're not exactly lying. But you're evading me anyway." Raines felt herself being shaken a little. "Who are you?"

"I'm still saying Nyota!" Raines huffed. "Who are you?"

"Fine, if we're using aliases," the man shrugged. "Sylar. Ever hear that one?"

"No," Raines shook her head.

Sylar sighed. He wasn't surprised. Out in this remote area, it was unlikely anyone would know if the world came to an end. "You stay put!" Sylar released his power-grip on her & raised his hands. He cut his left palm, using his power alone, then held it up. The cut healed. "I'm one of those pe—hang on." Sylar blinked, thinking a moment. "Peter are you messing around with another power?"

"What?"

"Are you Peter?"

"No! Do I look like a boy?"

Sylar laughed out loud. "He does have a boyish face regardless of his age. Sorry, just checking." He shook his head. "So, where'd you get that power from?"

Raines huffed. "Born that way."

"Where does your name come from?"

"My parents."

Sylar crossed-rolled his eyes shut. "I mean your name you seem to go by."

"Oh that," Raines actually blushed & looked away. "You'll call me a nerd if I tell." Sylar stared at her. "Uhura's first name. In Star Trek?"

With a groan, Sylar rubbed his face in both hands. "You wouldn't happen to be related to Hiro Nakamura by any chance, would you?"

"Who? No, I don't think so," Raines said. "Why?"

"He's another nerd," Sylar laughed.

"Hmm, I'd like to meet him someday," Raines said.

"Perhaps you will," Sylar wasn't impressed. With a cocky half-smile, he eyed the girl over. Then he put out a hand & the three pieces of the plate lifted into the air untouched. They floated over to the basin & lowered down into it. "I'm keeping you working overtime. Let me help you clean up so we can both get out of here."

Raines crossed her arms. "I really shouldn't allow strange men around like that when I'm by myself."

"No, you shouldn't," Sylar agreed. "You never know if you'll meet a creep. Or worse. Maybe a murderer." Raines did her best not to show any emotion. Sylar laughed softly. "Relax, you're safe with me."

"Really?" Raines wondered what this man was up to.

"Look my real name is Gabriel."

Raines uncrossed her arms. "Raines. Though anyone calls my Nyota."

"Alright Nyota," Sylar finished off the last bit of coffee in his cup & picked up the basin. "Where does this go?"

"Through the door," Raines got up to lead him.

Sylar let her past & carried the basin in. There was more than one way to skin a cat. A little romance never hurt anyone. One he got that girl in bed, he could find out everything he needed. Raines was a pretty girl. Thick blonde curls. Blue-green eyes. She had the face of a porcelain doll. Oh yeah! It would be a good night.


	15. Chapter 15

**(15) An Unexpected Visitor**

**Sylar (Alaska)/Peter (New York)**

His hand fumbled for the incessantly ringing phone. It was finally discovered at the far end of the night table. Yawning widely, he put it to his ear. "If you're not an insanely gorgeous woman, I'm hanging up!"

"Peter. Cordova. Alaska. Help!"

Peter pulled himself out of bed, glancing down at Emma sleeping by his side. He whispered, "Alas—you are insane! Don't you know what time it is over here?"

"Emma's deaf, Peter."

"I don't ca—WAAHHH! OOF!"

An angry cat yowl. A thud. "Hello? Peter?"

"I hate you."

"Who?" Sylar wasn't sure if Peter was talking to him or the cat. Something told him 'both'.

After a long pause, Peter whined. "I think I'll have to chop my arm off! Oh this hurts!"

"You don't have Regen?"

"No, I'm stuck with Emma's power right now."

"Yeah well, at least one of us got lucky tonight," Sylar scowled. "You wouldn't believe what happened to me!"

"Uh huh!" Peter didn't rightly care. "Gabriel, I just belly flopped a cat! You think I care about sex right now?" He held the phone to his ear by using his shoulder, while holding up his right wrist. It was already bruised.

"Is the cat ok?" Sylar held his phone away a moment to laugh at the image before going on. "When you've touched Claire, please come up here as soon as possible," He ignored Peter's whining. "I need your help with something."

"What of it?" Peter muttered, wrapping his wrist tightly.

There was a long pause. Sylar said so softly, Peter almost didn't hear. "I think—I, well, I've been violated." Peter's phone slipped from his shoulder to smash on the floor.

* * *

**Angela, at the Company's island**

/Peter crossed his arms glaring. "I need to go forward, Gabriel. I'm missing something."

"It's too dangerous," Sylar said.

"I must," Peter protested. "I'll come back."

Angela suddenly felt like she was flung forward. Grey mist whipped around her & a horse's whinny was heard in the distance. She saw Peter again. Not her Peter. This one had a scar on his face. He was speaking to a rather confused-looking Sylar. "It's me. It really is. Look, I don't have any powers now. I can't go back."/

Angela sat up on the couch she had been lying on. She stared ahead into nothing, analysing that one. Was the scar-faced Future Peter about to become present day? She wondered if & how she could stop that from happening. Peter getting his scar didn't sit well in her books. Peter with a scar always ruined her plans. Meddled. She had to set Peter on a different path. Away from Sylar. It always came back to Sylar. Where was he? She thought again of a previous vision, one that ended in a drowning. It had to be connected to Sylar somehow.

"First things first," Angela stood up. She headed down one hall & came out into a large sitting room with windows open to the great grey sea. She crossed that room, went down some stairs & opened the door into the front foyer. Arlin & Rene were sitting near the door that lead outside to the boat docked in between two high boulders. It would be hard to see from almost any side. She looked both men over & noticed Arlin wanted to say something. "Well, what is it?"

"I think whenever we talk about the Company in public, we could use the name Rubocryn."

"Rubocryn?" Angela asked.

"It was the name of a little boat I had as a kid," Arlin shrugged.

Angela smiled. "Alright, Rubocryn it is." Rene came to stand behind her. "We have a problem. I think Peter's planning a time travel. He needs to be stopped. Distracted somehow."

"Is he still in New York?" Arlin asked. Angela nodded. "Alright, I'll fly over there & have a look into what he's doing."

* * *

**Edgar & Micah (outside the 'Rubocryn')**

"Someone's coming," Micah suddenly hissed in a low whisper. He turned & pushed Edgar back. "Hurry. Go!"

The two of them ducked into an open side door & hid behind a couch. Both peered out from underneath & watched as Arlin Daniels & Angela Petrelli passed. They both headed outside the main door to the small yacht floating outside. Keeping one hand on his phone, Micah used that to check ahead on each camera & turn the lenses away from them as they passed as he led Edgar down into the lower levels where Amanda was.

"I can't believe they're restarting the Company!" Edgar muttered. "Will they never learn?"

"I think if done properly a Company would be good for us," Micah answered, shocking Edgar. "But NOT when it is headed by that woman. I prefer my own company, thanks."

"I'm not liking that Arlin Daniels guy much either," Edgar said.

"Neither do I," said Micah. "Amanda's just down these stairs. You get her out. "I'll focus on another way out of here."

Edgar nodded & disappeared down the stairs. Amanda looked up as the door to her cell suddenly opened. "Want to get out of here?" Edgar asked.

"Where's Noah Bennet?" asked Amanda.

Edgar raised his brow in surprise at being asked anything. "Uh he's dead. Been that way for a few weeks."

"He is?"

Edgar nodded. "He's not a part of this company if that's what you're asking. Angela Petrelli is though & she's just as bad. We should go." He moved up to her bed, never taking her eyes off her.

"Thanks, who are you?"

Edgar closed his eyes. "You don't know me much & I doubt your mother spoke about me. You look a lot like her, you know." Amanda looked up at him. "Oh yes. I knew her! Your mother & I were together a long time ago. Then we sort of separated. When I first saw you, I recognised you immediately. You have her eyes."

Amanda looked Edgar up & down. "I've seen you at the Carnival a few times. You were always nearby her."

"I guess no one really ever told you," said Edgar. "I'm your father." Amanda stared. "Your mom needed some space so I stayed nearby. Kept an eye on you."

"You're my Dad?" Amanda gasped.

"Yeah," Edgar nodded. "Let's go home. I know a great place where you can learn to control your powers." Amanda stood up & he grabbed her around the waist in one hand. "Hang on!" Amanda suddenly felt as if she were on the Enterprise at high warp.

"OOF!" Micah gasped as some blur snatched him up.

"Which way?"

"Thhhaaaaat waaayy!" Micah pointed left. Edgar dashed in the direction to another door & zoomed around towards the coast. He was fast enough to scoot across the water & then dropped the two of them onto the sandy shore. Micah fell flat on his face for a moment. So did Amanda. "We REALLY need to work on our transportation skills!"

* * *

**Peter, NYC Mercy Hospital**

"Hello Peter," A man called out the moment Peter entered the lobby of the hospital.

Peter glanced around, expecting a familiar face since his first name was used, but saw no one except some stranger staring intently at him. Peter rolled his eyes. "Gabriel, I thought you were hurt in Alaska. Why the shape-shifting?

"I'm not Mr. Gray," the man said. "But I know exactly who you are. Peter Petrelli right?" He stepped up closer. Peter had one urge to step back & another to stand firm. He ended up pausing halfway through movie. "I have a mess…you're hurt. Hold my hand."

"Um ok," Peter shook his head. "Look mister I don't kn—"

The man had started laughing. "You've never called me mister before."

"I've never seen you before!" Peter defended.

"Not true," the man shook his head. "No scar. So you're still that Peter. We met once. About a year ago from your point of view."

"My po—oh I'm not talking to you anymore!" Peter tried to back up. "This has something to do with screwing around with time, doesn't it? Are you related to Hiro?"

"Yes & no."

"That doesn't make any sense," Peter said. "How can you be yet not be related to someone?"

The man rolled his eyes. "You asked two questions. You got two answers."

"Oh, right," Peter huffed. "Look, whatever it is mom's scheming, I have no time for."

"Gr—Mrs. Petrelli has nothing to do with me."

"Whatever," Peter said. "Look I really need to find a quick way to Cordova, Alaska. A friend of mine's in trouble."

"Your entire family is in trouble," the man went serious & silent. "Your friend can wait."

"Ugh! Don't remind me!" Peter rubbed his face in one hand. "Making Sylar wait is never a good idea."

"Sylar? Oh! I was unaware he needed you. Very well," the man nodded. "Take my hand to heal your wrist, then I'll take you to, D—uh, Sylar. Then I'll take you where you're needed."

"Who are you?" Peter demanded. He had noticed the two slipups so far as if the stranger was saying one thing but changed his mind & covered it. But why?

"A friend. Don't worry."

"I worry!"

"All will be explained later. Sylar first."

"At least we agree on something," Peter suddenly eyed the stranger like a hawk. He suddenly grabbed his hand & retrieved an old familiar power. "You can heal?"

"Of course I can," the man almost looked insulted. "I'm Mr. Phoenix. All Phoenix's can heal."

"Oh?" Peter was glad he finally got a name & a last name at that. Bonus. He'll look this one up. Next moment, Peter saw the inside of a living room. "Now where are we?"

"I have more than one power," Mr. Phoenix explained. "Technically three, but only two are permanent. The varied one is what I call Morph. I can pick up any power, but lose the previous power held in that...slot...for lack of a better term. You have time travel powers. I moved us to Alaska."

"I HAD time travel," Peter corrected. "I don't any more. Last I had was Emma's power to see sound. Then the Regen from you."

"All your powers are inside you Peter," Mr. Phoenix explained. "You've just lost touch with them. It's time to get those fixed."

"You can fix me?" Peter asked hopefully.

"No," Mr. Phoenix shook his head. "But I know where to send you to have your powers fixed."

Peter folded his arms over his chest. "I am NOT going to another Company."

"Agreed," Mr. Phoenix said. "Our family is against Companies of any sort for Specials."

"Alright, let me find Gabriel first."

"The moment you two are finished, come find me," Mr. Phoenix ordered. "We need to talk. Oh & don't do anything stupid. As of this point, you already tried to give me the slip four times. Don't piss me off again!"

If looks could kill immortality, Mr. Phoenix would have dropped dead. "I have to find Gabriel."

"You do that," Mr. Phoenix muttered. "I'll be waiting."

"Of course you will," Peter muttered darkly. It was official. Time travel was his least favorite power. No wonder his scarred self stopped visiting!

* * *

_(Yes I totally ripped off the Remus/Harry Potter scene on the bridge in POA for Edgar/Amanda reunion. No I don't care! "tongue")_


	16. Chapter 16

**AN:** Two words, ok? (1) Fucking (2) computers (Yes PLURAL!)

_**Previously on Heroes**_

_Angela dreaming: Peter was talking to a very confused Sylar. This Peter had the scar. _

_Sylar: "Peter, Cordova. Alaska. Help!"_

_Angela: "I think Peter's planning a time travel. He needs to be stopped."_

_Phoenix: "Hello Peter."  
_

_Peter: "Who are you?"_

_Phoenix "A friend. Don't worry. I'm Mr. Phoenix. All your powers are inside you Peter. It's time to get those fixed."_

**(16) The Sinking**

**Peter/Sylar/Phoenix, Cordova, Alaska**

Peter looked towards the restaurant, watching Mr. Phoenix sit down at a table, before heading across the street to the inn. He found Sylar in his room, sitting on the bed. "So what happened?" Peter asked, grateful that he had healing power at the moment. The calm gentle look of Gabriel Gray was gone, only to be replaced by the demon within. It had been a while since he had seen Sylar this angry & that without Claire around to piss him off.

"I have absolutely no idea," Sylar hissed. In one smooth movement, he was on his feet. Peter set his jaw, ready to fight, knowing he was useless against Sylar when he was awakened like this. "I met this girl at that café," Sylar went on, either not noticing Peter's apprehension or not caring about it. "I found something at my Dad's home about Alaska. That's why I'm up here in the first place, in case you're wondering. That girl can heal."

"What?"

"Just like Claire," Sylar said. "So I tried to learn more about her. Brought her here to my room."

"Yeah, yeah & then what?" Peter pressed, not wanting those details.

"She brought wine," Sylar pointed at a bottle lying on the floor. It was opened & most of the wine poured out into the carpet. "It was drugged. When I wake up, I have this." He rolled up his right sleeve. A tourniquet was tied there. "I found this next to the bed." He handed over a small case, then began to untie the band around his bicep.

Peter opened it. The case had imprints inside for a syringe & an extra tube but it was empty. "You think she stole some of your blood?" Sylar nodded. Peter closed the case. "Look, on my way here, I met some guy. Mr. Phoenix is what he goes by. He can heal to."

"Peter, how many of us are there?" Sylar gasped.

"I thought it was just you & Claire, sometimes me," Peter admitted. "I wonder …you know, it might be possible."

"What?"

Peter hesitated before going on. "Adam Monroe was around four hundred years old when my father destroyed him."

"You think he started a whole line of Regenerators?"

Peter shrugged. "Maybe."

"How'd you get here so fast?" Sylar suddenly asked.

"Mr. Phoenix," Peter said. "He can time-travel as well."

"He has more than one power?" Sylar exclaimed. "Do you know what the others are?"

"Not all of them," Peter shook his head. "No, I'm not going to allow you to ...find out...to put it politely."

Sylar glared, noticing that Peter was trying to hide a smirk which made his whole mouth twitch. If it had been anyone else, he probably would have killed them. "I mean," Sylar tried to explain himself. "We should know what we're dealing with. If he has something to attack us with is all."

"That is a good idea," Peter let it slide at last.

"I appreciate the concern." It was Sylar's turn to smile.

"Gabriel," Peter moaned & finally, there was the eye-roll Sylar had been expecting.

"You're so wound up," Sylar teased.

"I should go over there & talk to him," Peter ignored the jibe.

"I'm coming with you." Sylar made to move for the door.

Peter put a hand on his shoulder. "Wait. Who's coming with me? Kirby Plaza or Gabriel Gray?"

"Just in case," Sylar said. "Both." Peter had no choice but to follow.

When they entered the café, Sylar pointed at the man sitting at the corner table. "Is that Mr. Phoenix?" Peter nodded. Without another word, Sylar made a bee-line for the stranger.

Phoenix put on his gloves & looked straight at Sylar, almost as if he was expecting him. Probably was, Peter groused silently to himself. Sylar extended a hand. Mr. Phoenix shook it. As they separated, Peter noticed that Sylar looked a bit confused. "It's good to see you again." Mr. Phoenix said. With a jolt, Peter realized that Mr. Phoenix was nearly in tears, as if he was trying to suppress some grief. "Very good to see you again."

"We ..." Sylar stopped.

"Gabe, what is it?"

"I was going to say that we've never met before," Sylar turned to Peter standing slightly behind him. "But he isn't lying when he says 'again'. Noah & your mother both worked with a Haitian man. René. Maybe we lost memories of Phoenix."

"No," Peter & Phoenix said at the same time. They stared at each other a moment.

Peter tried again. "Those with Regen can't actually lose their memories permanently. If they focus, they can heal their mind. I did that once. Not long after I exploded over New York a few years ago."

"From your point of view, we only met once before so far," Phoenix spoke to Peter, then turned to Sylar. "However from your point of view, we have never met yet. I however, have known you for a few years in my life."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Sylar looked Phoenix over.

Peter felt a tick in his jaw. If Sylar wasn't careful, that Hunger would take over. It was like taking care of a werewolf, not knowing when they would pounce again but hoping to train them to behave before they do. "He can time-travel to. Hang on," Peter suddenly thought of something. "You come from the future?"

"About thirty years, yes."

"Then why did you need to drain time-travel out of me to get here?"

"I've been here for a few days looking for you," Phoenix explained. "I picked up that techno-pathy from Micah for a bit to figure out both your exact location & my own timing. Going back this far is a bit tricky."

"What's he talking about Peter?" Sylar demanded.

"I'll explain when you're calmer."

"I'm calmer," Sylar said. "Now what does he mean?"

"Kirby Plaza," Peter 'swore' their personal oath under breath. "Why don't we find that girl first? Then we'll discuss powers you don't have but Hunger for?"

"Ouch. Subtle much?" Sylar complained.

"You know you deserved it," Peter said.

"Miss Raines has flown out," Phoenix said. "I know you'll be looking for her."

"Of course you did," Peter said.

"Here's all the information you need," Phoenix handed over an envelope to Sylar.

Sylar ripped it open. "She went to the clinic in Anchorage? So she DID take my blood without my permission."

"It's better than the alternative," Phoenix, crossed his arms, a smirk on his face.

"What, better then a bit of sex?" Sylar asked.

"Definitely."

Sylar glared at him for a moment. "Are you implying that I'm no good in b..wait. Do we know each other Biblically?"

"WHAT?" Phoenix exclaimed. "Oh no! Hell no!"

"Hmm, not lying," Sylar muttered to Peter as Phoenix went on.

"Trust me," Phoenix said. "When you find out what Raines is up to, you'll be glad last night didn't work out."

"You seem to know it all," said Sylar.

"Mhm," Phoenix nodded. "I've got thirty years on you, don't forget."

"So what's going on?" Sylar demanded.

"Not my place to say," Phoenix said. "But don't worry. It isn't anything bad. In fact, once you catch up to her, you'll find several answers you're looking for."

Sylar tugged on Peter's sleeve. "We better get going then."

"Peter stays with me," Phoenix said. "I need him."

"I'm staying with Gabri—"

"No, you are not."

"If you truly are thirty years from the future, then you know exactly what he's capable of," Peter pointed at Sylar. "Look at him now. He's awakened at the moment. He needs my help to restrain his first power!"

Phoenix pushed past & headed for the door. He turned back. "Believe me, I know far more of what the legendary Gabriel Sylar can do than even Sylar himself at the moment. Far more! Do not underestimate me." He stepped outside & waited on the front porch.

"We need to be extremely careful with that man."

"No need to tell me," Peter said. "What did you get from him when you shook hands?"

"Nothing," Sylar admitted. "The gloves were brand new from the store & were bought a few hours ago. He kept himself well covered." He grabbed Peter's hand.

Next moment, they were standing on the beach in Miami, Florida. "Gabriel what?!" Peter yelped, glancing about. "Are you able to acquire my old powers even though I can't?"

Sylar shook his head. "Dad."

Peter stared at him. "Oh!" Ever since Sylar had killed his father at last, he had several new powers. "So you're a time-traveler now."

"It's the second time I've used it but," Sylar shrugged. "Yeah."

"When was the first time?"

"I abandoned Claire to her misery in her room," Sylar said, making Peter laugh.

"Nice try!" Phoenix suddenly showed up beside them. Both he & Sylar reached for Peter.

Sylar grabbed him first & beamed them away to Sylar's mountain cabin. "That was close."

"Too close," Peter said.

"You need to stop running," Phoenix showed up beside them once more. This time, Sylar was still holding Peter's shoulder & yanked them both away before Phoenix could do anything else.

"How does he know where we go?" Peter asked. They were currently huddled in a small dark area with clothes. A closet.

"Well he is thirty years from the future," Sylar pointed out. "Hindsight. We need to think of a place he won't expect." Peter nodded, interlacing their fingers for a moment so he could draw out a power.

They heard voices coming closer & suddenly the door slid open. Claire & Phoenix were both standing outside in Claire's bedroom. Claire's gaze switched from Peter to Sylar & back again. Slightly flushing, Peter released Sylar's hand. Sylar just glared at the cheerleader. This was so not what it looked like! "Out of the closet." She stood aside, beckoning with her hand. It was Sylar's turn to roll his eyes.

"This is really becoming tedious!" Phoenix glared, crossing his arms. "Peter—"

Sylar rubbed his head as he bumped it against something. They were suddenly in another small enclosure with dim light. It was cold & both his & Peter's breath formed clouds around their heads. "Did you do that Peter?"

Peter nodded. "I took time-travel off you. Figured we could work together to ditch that guy."

"So where or when are we?"

"Not to sure," Peter looked pointedly at Sylar. "I had help."

Sylar sighed. At least they were together & as of yet, Phoenix wasn't appearing. Sylar glanced around at their surroundings. "I can hear screaming. Someone's in trouble." Peter was about to say something but Sylar went on. "Correction. A lot of people are in trouble."

"Let's figure out where we are first," Peter said. "Then we can go look."

"What about interfering with time?"

Peter shrugged. "We should stay here a bit, wherever that is. Looks like Phoenix didn't pick this one up. We have time to help out." Sylar stepped forward, but Peter yanked him back. He pointed to the floor. "Is that ... a door? In the floor?"

Sylar looked down. "That isn't a trapdoor." He cocked his head like an owl to look at the glass door hanging open at their feet. It had intricate patterns on it. Before he could focus his attention on the thing, the lights blinkered out. A blue ball of electricity soon appeared in both of Sylar's palms as he crouched down to look.

Suddenly, there was a report like a shot out of a canon & whatever they were standing on lurched forward then backwards. Without warning, everything began cracking apart.

"GABRIEL!"

Sylar looked around. Peter was falling down the great rent that was ripping across. He hit his head & was knocked out. Sylar plunged down after him into the abyss, trying to fly downward in the void opening up under them both. Electric bolts from the room & bits of wood jutted out & he had to avoid getting skewed. Sylar put a hand out in the grim dark cold, felt a leg that was wet & time shifted away before the room they were in was completely destroyed.

They landed in Peter's apartment on the floor. Sylar gasped in a breath. His head had gone under water just as they had beamed away. Freezing water. Salt water. He spat some of the ocean out, making a face. Sylar pushed himself off the body, hoping it was Peter. Kneeling on the floor, he looked down. Peter was lying unconscious next to him. Sylar waited a few moments. Then, with a horrible rush, he remembered. Peter did not have the Regen but time-travel.

Sylar surveyed the damage. Peter had a large cut on his head. Unlike Sylar, Peter was soaked from head to foot with the icy sea water. That would have been fine but jutting out of Peter's chest was a large splinter about four feet long.

"Peter," Sylar grabbed the medic's face with both hands. "Peter. Don't you die on me now! PETER!" He put a hand on the splinter to pull it out & it was then that he knew. The horrific history of that bit of wood told him not only exactly where, but also when, they had been. No wonder people had been screaming. In that moment, Sylar knew that there was no way any of them could have been saved. It was beyond anyone's abilities. "I swear to God, Peter! You better live so I can kill you for what you've just done! You idiot!"


	17. Chapter 17

_**Previously on Heroes**_

_Jessica Havok: "He's harmless."_

_Matt: "What if I told you that he's a spider? He has threads to other Specials all over the place?"_

_Jessica: "Again with Sylar."_

_Matt: "Claire ... & Sylar would rip the world apart with their constant fighting. Why would Mr. Daniels be involved with this?"_

_Jessica: "I'm going to a gaming convention in a month. Arlin will be there. You could come."_

_Matt: "Call me when you're ready."_

**(17) Walking The Line**

**Jessica Havok, Las Vegas**

Jessica plopped down onto her bed. She had just returned from a large convention for new video games & her designs had received a lot of interest. It had been a good but long day. Her Professor, Mr. Daniels would be arriving tomorrow for the final day. He had been quite pleased with the results she had sent him & had rented a room for her in one of the best hotels of Las Vegas. She was now more than grateful for the large comfy bed. Jessica sighed & stretched out. She was finally going home the next day after one last meeting.

Late the next morning, Jessica was once more in front of a row of people analyzing her designs. On the screen behind her, 3-D images of a character that look sort of human, sort of cat-like, was automatically leaping through green glades & swimming in clear sparkling water that looked real enough to drink. "So this uses a revolutionary technique which actually scans the person's face who is voicing the character," Jessica said as Mr. Arlin who was on the far left nodded. "This causes the image to look nearly life-like. Once a head shot had been scanned into the system, other things are simply added. Such as her tail. Or her ears."

After a round of applause, Jessica finally managed to close her last showing & headed for Arlin who had stood up. "Well done, Jessy. Looks like another winner from you."

"Thanks," Jessy laughed. "Hey there's someone who wants to meet you. He should be arriving at my room soon."

"Alright, I'll be up in a few minutes," Arlin nodded. "I'll bring up some coffee. Well, so long as, you know. Are you going to run away again?"

"I didn't exactly run away," Jessica defended. "I was sort of kidnapped."

"Kidnapped," Arlin echoed.

"Anyway, some people are scared of you," Jessica went on. "I keep saying you're harmless. This guy, Matt Parkman, he'll clear everything up & then we can get back to gaming. That's most important to me."

"That's what I like to hear," Arlin smiled. He watched Jessica gather her things for a bit before heading into the lobby to get the coffee. Once alone, he dialled a number. "I'm meeting Matt Parkman in a few minutes. Yes. I'll try to find out how much he knows. It's time to put Jessy to the test. Then I'll take care of Peter." He hung up.

"Matt, you're here!" Jessica exclaimed as she stepped off the elevator into the hall, arms full of discs & papers.

"Need some help?"

"Yeah," She turned sideways. "Keys. Left jean pocket."

Matt unlocked & opened the door & let her in. "I figured I should wait until after your meeting. How did it go with your game?"

"Oh they love it!" Jessica dropped the whole pile onto her bed. "These new designs are very exciting."

"Nice," Matt nodded. "I'll have to get one for my son, Matty, when he's older."

"Aw I didn't know you had a son," said Jessica, pointing to the sofa. "Make yourself comfy. Arlin's bringing up coffee."

The moment Matt sat down, Arlin himself entered bearing a tray with three cups & a pot. "So you're Matt Parkman. We meet again."

"Again?" Matt & Jessica echoed.

"Well sort of," Arlin said, handing out the cups & sitting down himself on an armchair. Jessica took a chair over to sit between them. "You're part of her ...kidnapping...as she puts it. When Sylar took that kid from the Rebel Team. I was there. It was my first & I hope only encounter with that man!"

"The kid's fine," Matt assured. "He's Sylar's half-brother really."

"Wow!" Arlin stared for a moment, then shook himself & went on. "One of these days, someone is going to put a final stop to Sylar."

"About that," Matt leaned forward & launched into a full explanation of how research papers had been stolen from a friend of his. Someone ended up dead & Claire's name was somehow involved.

Arlin sipped his coffee, taking his time to answer. "While I admit to knowing Robert Jenkins personally, I had nothing to do with whatever he was doing." Matt scoffed lightly. "You're telepathic. You both are. Use it on me." Jessica's brown eyes slowly swirled into a pulsing blue. Arlin went on. "Do either of you think I want to be mixed up in the ongoing battle of unrequited love between those two? Please," Arlin put up a hand at their stares. "The whole world, our world anyway, knows about the great war of Sylar versus Cheerleader. They never stop. Would you want to be involved? Didn't think so & I don't need any power to know that."

"I think Claire's got competition though," Jessica said. "Sylar & Peter have been rather close ever since Matt shoved them together."

Matt laughed nervously. "The three of them are constantly after each other. I'll admit it."

"There's a reason for that," Arlin said.

Matt stared at him. "What? You don't think Sylar & Peter are...ya know?"

"Wouldn't put it past them," Arlin smiled. "But I was referring to their powers actually."

Jessica caught a stray thought from Matt. /So he does know more than he lets on./

Arlin poured out some refills & then started again. "Sylar & Peter share many similar powers."

"Peter is broken," Matt pointed out.

"Yeah but he can pull out any one of those powers from Sylar," Arlin countered. "They're drawn to each other for the same reason Samson Gray got rid of his son."

"What do you know about that?" Matt asked incredulously.

"How does Sylar's power work? His first one?"

"I'm not sure what his first one is. It makes him kill anyway."

"His first power is the same as his father's," Arlin explained. "It's basically an understanding but it makes one desperate to know more & more. But," He leaned forward a bit. "If someone with that same power of understanding is around, it's like, hmm, like a counter to each other. It'll have a calming affect on each other & so those with that power won't be so driven to kill for more."

"What does that have to do with his father giving Sylar away?" Matt asked.

"He figured it out," Arlin said. "Didn't like the fact that there was someone around that would keep him calm. He killed hundreds more than Sylar. He liked to kill."

"According to Peter," Matt said. "Sylar has tried many a time to stop."

"He doesn't like to kill," Arlin said.

"That's ridiculous!" Matt declared. "He enjoys it. Every time. I've seen him kill. It's his favorite sport. I've been in his head & he does claim repentance but I don't really buy it. I think he likes it."

"No," Arlin said. "That's his power showing through that makes him want more. After it's over, he hates it. Samson however, never once shown remorse. Never. So he sent Sylar away. Even though he was a little kid who didn't know anything, the effect was still there."

"So now Peter & Sylar keep each other calm?" Jessica asked.

"Precisely," Arlin nodded. "They call it friendship or," he laughed & teased. "others may call it something more. Who knows? It all may be true but ultimately, it's the fact that they both had used that power of understanding that is keeping them together."

"But Peter is broken," Matt reiterated.

"For now," Arlin said. "Remember the scarred one?"

"Now how in the hell do you know about him?" Matt was suddenly suspicious again.

"It isn't me," Arlin said. "I got all this through Robert Jenkins. Considering what Sylar is capable of, can you blame me for keeping tabs on him?" Matt did a one-shouldered shrug, conceding the point for now. "Exactly my point. Now, it's a pity the man was killed. I guess Claire will have to find something else to torture Sylar with."

"Believe me, she will," Matt complained. After a moment of silence, he went on. "So why is the Rebel Team worried about you?"

"Uh hello? They kidnapped my girl?" Arlin gestured at Jessica. "Of course I'm mad at them."

"So why was she at your house?" Matt accused. "Seems rather suspicious. A so-called gaming Professor & one of his students at his house."

Jessica & Arlin spoke at the same time. "He's gay/I'm gay!"

"Oh," Matt facepalmed. "Oh! So Robert was ..."

"We were together for a long time though we only told a few people. Even adopted a son."

"Oh. I'm sorry to hear that."

"Much appreciated," Arlin stood up. "Anyway, I hope that clears things up for you. I think your better option would be to talk to the cheerleader but really, I'd leave her & Sylar to pick each other off if I were you. Jessy? I'll get the car ready." He picked up the tray of empty cups & pot, then headed out the door, leaving Matt more confused than ever.

"You ok now?" Jessica asked Matt once they were alone.

"Yeah," Matt laughed. "Awkward!"

"You're homophobic?"

"What? No!" Matt defended. "I don't care. I just felt stupid bringing that up when he probably didn't want to talk about Robert at all."

"Oh, he'll be fine," Jessica said. "It's been a while since it happened. But for the record, I am perfectly fine at his house. He isn't being a perv."

"Yeah, yeah," Matt nodded.

"I rent the single room suite at his house," Jessica went on. "He is close to the university & I can get extra help on my games."

"I see," Matt shook his head, feeling foolish.

"So, you're sure he's ok then?" Jessica asked. "I didn't feel him lying about anything."

Matt hesitated, then turned & smiled at her. "Yeah, he's ok. But it's always good to check up on things. I've been shot at, rounded up, drugged, thrown into other places having no clue how I got there, been chased by the government. It seems like it never ends at times."

"I think Arlin can handle things," said Jessica. "How's your headaches?"

"Hmm? Oh, I haven't had any for a while," said Matt. "I think it's because you somehow threw my pushes back into my head. Your power is a little different from mine."

"Alright, I'll try to be gentle next time," said Jessica. Once Matt left, she packed her two bags & headed downstairs herself about fifteen minutes later.

Arlin was waiting for her in the car on the top level. "So?" He asked the moment she was buckled in & hey had begun to move.

"He was quite open-minded," Jessica said. "He's worried since you seem to know so much about people with powers. He had some bad experiences is all."

"I know," Arlin said. "He told me."

"I don't think you have much to worry about," Jessica said.

"We still have the problem of Robert being killed," Arlin said. "Claire's meddling went a bit far."

Jessica sighed heavily. "Do you know what happened to the papers he had?"

"Not yet," Arlin said, turning onto the main highway. "But I aim to find out." Once he had dropped Jessica off in San Diego, Arlin headed for the airport to fly to New York.

**Raines 'Nyota' Hanson; Anchorage, Alaska**

Raines sat back in her chair in front of the computer. She was sitting in the lobby of a little hotel in Anchorage & had been searching for information on the man from the restaurant. It had taken only a short time to find him. She shook her head. "I really did let a murderer in that night." She sighed. It had been over a day since she had stolen Sylar's blood & taken off. Given his reputation, she was surprised that he hadn't come after her before now.

Raines wasn't worried too much. It was not like Sylar could kill her. But still, something seemed off. In a way, she was glad that he hadn't turned up again. Until she had the results of the blood in her hands, she had nothing she could say to explain herself. She had a good reason for her actions but simply wasn't ready to voice them yet.

Standing up to stretch, Raines paced around & ended up at the window. A heavy snow was falling softly, adding more layers on the ground. She finally turned & headed up the stairs to her room. The moment the door closed behind her, Raines felt herself pressed against the wall. Her body was turned so she could see. The light flicked on.

It was Sylar. He stood in the middle of the room, holding her against the wall by power alone. The power-bolt shook her a little. Sylar was upset. "You wouldn't believe what I had to go through to get my hands on you!"


	18. Chapter 18

_**Previously on Heroes**_

_Suresh: "I'm missing some of my papers. The ones that involve creating & destroying abilities. Robert Jenkins ...was working for an American ... Arlin Daniels ... & Claire."_

_Matt: "My God. She really is going after Sylar."_

_Jessica: "Do you know what happened to the papers he had?"_

_Arlin: "Not yet. But I aim to find out."_

**(18) To Save**

**Jessica, San Diego **

Jessica entered her familiar suite at last, after petting the Dobermans several times over. They had missed her & constantly butted their heads into her sides, hoping for attention. Jessica sat by the window, Valefore's head in her lap, eyes rolled upwards in hopeless adoration. She watched the car pull out again as Professor Daniels headed out once more. He had said he would be gone for a day or so. After waiting nearly half an hour to make sure he didn't come back in case he forgot something or other, Jessica pulled out her phone. Pushing Valefore's head away, she stood up & headed out into the hall, all four Dobermans clamoring about her heels.

"I'm back here. Now what?"

"How much time do you have?"

"A day or so," Jessica shrugged with one shoulder, holding the phone to her ear with the other so her hands were free.

"Good. Try to go through his office. Find any papers about us. Since Micah couldn't find anything from his computers, we'll have to go the old-fashioned way."

"Tracy," Jessica sighed before going on. "I didn't sense anything bad from him but I do feel like he's hiding something. Same with Matt."

"I have a really bad feeling about this guy," Tracy said. "Are you sure you'll be ok there?"

"Yeah," Jessica answered. "I know where he puts the spare key. I saw him use it once. He doesn't know."

"If there's anything on him," Tracy said. "It would be filed away in his office."

"I'll call you back later," Jessica hung up & headed to the top floor, key in hand. Valefore skittered along behind her; though, she started growling when Jessica put the key in the lock to the office door. "Oh shut up!" Jessica fished around in her pocket & pulled out a bone-shaped cookie. "Go away." She tossed it down the full length of the hall. Valefore bounded after it, bobbed tail twitching excitedly. The other three followed, hoping to steal it. After tossing a few more cookies, Jessica made sure the door was securely closed behind her once she got in.

**Ando/Hiro/Phoenix, Tokyo, Japan **

Hiro & Ando stood at a desk in one of many offices of Yamagato Industries, staring down at some business papers spread out. Literally, staring down, unmoving. Phoenix walked up from behind & put a hand on Hiro's shoulder.

Hiro blinked. One moment, he had been with Ando looking at something & the next he was suddenly on a beach. "_Not again!"_ He complained, wondering if his powers were going haywire as before when it nearly killed him with a tumor. He glanced around.

"_Don't worry," _Phoenix replied in Japanese_. "It's just me."_

Hiro turned around & came face to face with the young man standing behind him. His light-brown short hair was rippling in the ocean's breeze. He seemed to be in his early to mid thirties but his eyes were what struck Hiro as hauntingly familiar. Hiro bowed quickly, then pushed up his glasses. _"Who are you? What has happened?"_

"_I can time-travel myself, sometimes,"_ Phoenix said. _"I'm Phoenix."_

"_Where is Ando?" _Hiro demanded.

"_Back in the office, don't worry._"

Hiro switched to English to see if the man would understand. "What do you want?"

"Nothing really," Phoenix said, switching just as easily. "Just to show you something." He indicated with his hand in the general direction.

Hiro followed Phoenix up the beach which was really only about two or three feet wide; though the stretch of sand went endlessly in both directions. The pristine surf sparkled like diamonds at it crashed upon the shore. As they reached the edge of the sandy beach, the ground rose up sharply about three feet, then rolled back & up a bit three times over before cresting at the top of a hill. Phoenix led Hiro up the first rise before it leveled out. Hiro noticed that the hill was surrounded by a black iron fence running up either side & over the top out of sight. Phoenix opened the gold colored gates & Hiro stepped inside.

The entire hill was mostly grass, dotted here & there with white flat stones set squarely in rows. Where the land leveled out flat on the first rise of the hill, there seemed to be two rows of those stones. Hiro suddenly realized with a jolt that they were in a cemetery. A very rich cemetery. The marble white stones were grave-markers.

Phoenix headed up the second rise of the hill to where it leveled out once more. Hiro saw more graves. Phoenix headed to the third & final rise, right at the top of the hill. As Hiro reached the top as well, he got a good view of both sides. One side went down towards the great dark blue ocean while the other side went down not quite as steeply & leveled out into a flat field, surrounded by the iron fence. Rows of graves were marked with the white marble headstones gleaming in the sun.

"Look," Phoenix pointed at one grave.

Hiro's eyes landed for a split second on the name but didn't focus on it as the dates leaped out at him instead. 2048. Twenty-nine years in the future. Phoenix knelt down & put a hand on the stone. It covered most of the latter part of the name but Hiro knew it all too well anyway. Hiro pushed his glasses up once more. "How is that possible?"

"Something was released into the air last year."

Last year? So this was now 2049, thirty years later. Hiro said, "But Sylar can't die. He has the cheerleader's power."

"About that cheerleader," Phoenix looked up at Hiro. "You & Ando are trying to get her to undo—what do you call it? A mistake? By exposing herself?"

"Someone from the future once came back & sa—"

"I know very well what that old scar-face Peter said & he was right for a time," Phoenix interrupted. "But don't worry. We figured it out. It turns out exposing our abilities worked out for the best. Well, for most of us. I'm just trying to clean up one last little mess. But I need you & Ando to stand down or this," he nodded at Sylar's grave, "will happen."

"Everyone is trying to kill him to begin with," Hiro said. "Why save him?"

"Since his time stuck with Peter in Parkman's nightmare world," Phoenix explained. "Sylar has changed. He found control of himself. Peter figures it out eventually."

"Sylar has killed so much."

"So has Peter," Phoenix mused. "But that will change. So long as you let Claire continue on her way."

"If I do that," Hiro mused. "There is a chance to bring Sylar down?"

"A hundred percent chance yes," Phoenix stood up at last. "But no need. In fact, saving Sylar not only from himself but from this tragedy is required."

"Is this what you're trying to do?"

Phoenix nodded. "Though I've run into a problem. I need Peter Petrelli of your time to come here & help me change something but I lost track of him. Sylar to. They just ...vanished off the map."

"They're most likely together," Hiro said. "In New York. Can you not use the Peter of your own time?"

"No," Phoenix replied flatly.

"Why have you gone back so far?" Hiro asked.

"Unlike other—or should I say, actual time travelers?—I can't control the when of where I end up. I go where I'm needed."

"Ah something that happens thirty years ago affects your timeline in some way," Hiro said. "Sometimes we make our future by making our past first."

Phoenix nodded, then sighed heavily. "That's why it's so frustrating that he's avoiding me. Anyway we can't keep you here or you'll be in danger." He put a hand on Hiro's shoulder. Hiro scratched his head & looked down once more at Sylar's grave; only to see the papers on the table again. He glanced around.

"_Hiro!"_ Ando was saying. "_Hiro! Hello? What happened? You blanched out for a moment!"_

**Jessica, San Diego**

After half an hour of searching, Jessica finally found a safe hidden behind a large gold-gilded frame of an oil painting depicting an ocean scene with a large light blue & white sailboat floating on the waves. Under the base frame, she felt a switch. Flipping it, the frame creaked open. Jessica put a finger on one corner & pulled softly. She heard something click & dropped to the floor just as a gun went off.

The frame swung wide open after the shot. Jessica stood up to find a gun wired inside to have its trigger pulled when the little door was opened. Behind it was tucked a small black leather case. She pulled it up & over the gun, then closed the frame. Opening the case, Jessica noticed a few papers inside. One had a formula written on it with notes on the side. Another small piece had a phone number on it. Jessica used the phone on the desk so her number wouldn't be recognized & called the number.

After a few rings, a woman's voice answered, "Hello?"

Jessica hung up. Though she had never met her, she recognized the voice instantly from the news clipping of a girl at the fair throwing herself off the Ferris wheel. It was the same voice in a few interviews that had followed until the death of her father, Noah Bennet. "Claire." Jessica sat down, thinking. Arlin had said he didn't know where the papers were, yet here they lay. Either Arlin had lied or perhaps Robert had put them there but never managed to tell Arlin. If so, why the gun?

Jessica suddenly stood up, put the papers back in the case & headed downstairs while calling for a cab. She was soon on the short flight up to Costa Verde. The moment she knocked on the door, a pale furball shot out the flap, barking madly.

The door opened. "Mr. Muggles! Stop that!" The blonde woman picked up the fluff-ball & petted back an ear. "Sorry. He's usually quite nice but his lady friend just left so, he's in a mood. Can I help you?"

"I'm Jessica Havoc," She held up a leather case. "Your number was in this."

Claire stared at the thing for a moment. "What do you want?"

"There's some papers in here with notes & a formula on it," Jessica said. "My Professor, uh," she quickly explained that she was involved with video games. "Anyway, Robert got killed over these. Arlin says he knows nothing about them & through all this, you turn up."

"Come inside," Clair put the dog down & led the way into the living room. "Mr. Jenkins took that from Dr. Suresh. He was working on a way to create & give abilities to people & also for a way to stop them. Permanently. I guess you could call it the anti-formula; so I need those, please."

"Why?"

"Because there's a very bad person out there with too many abilities."

"Sylar."

"Lucky guess," Claire replied. "So you've heard of him?"

"Oh yeah," Jessica shivered. "I've heard of some of those cases actually. People without brains. Does he eat them?"

Claire actually managed half a smirk. "No, just a simple touch to that ability node back here," she indicated the back of her head with a finger. "He can download the ability."

"Wow that's creepy!" Jessica gasped. "Gets worse every time I hear about him."

"He had me stretched out on that very table," Claire nodded to the coffee table in front of them. "He became...well...yeah. Immortal. Right here. In this very room."

After an awkward silence, Jessica said. "Immortal only until you figure out how to reverse an ability."

"Exactly," Claire pointed at the case. "I need that anti-formula."

"You're not a scientist though," Jessica pointed out. "How will you make this formula?"

"I have my sources," Claire said. "I'm not really a Bennet. My other family can create this anti-formula just fine."

"Oh yes," Jessica suddenly remembered something she had seen on TV a few years ago. "You're the daughter of that politician. The one that died in a plane crash."

"That's a lie," Claire said. "Sylar murdered him but we didn't find out until later. We had to cover it up somehow since abilities weren't well known then."

"No wonder you want to take that man down!"

"You have no idea," Claire said. "Can I have that case?"

Jessica's eyes swirled into blue. "Are you using this for Sylar only? You won't hurt others like us?"

"No, of course not!" Claire declared. "I have several Specials for friends & family."

"You won't let this fall into the wrong hands?"

"I am the wrong hands," Claire blatantly replied. "Especially if your name's Sylar."

Jessica's eyes went back to normal. Out of all people she had ever read, Claire was the most open honest person. Her focus was on nothing but the destruction of one man. Jessica almost felt sorry for him, but quickly reminded herself of what a monster he apparently was. She handed over the case. "Be careful with it."

"Thank you!" Claire exclaimed, taking the case.

"Don't mention it," Jessica got up to leave. "Seriously."

"I won't say your name," Claire assured.

**Peter/Sylar, NYC, NY**

"I swear to God, Peter! You better live so I can kill you for what you've just done! You idiot!" Sylar wrenched the piece of wood from Peter's heart & threw it aside. "Come on. Wake up! Take the Regen. PETER!" Sylar squeezed Peter's hand hard. "Take it. Now!" Another moment went by. Two. Peter didn't return Sylar's grip. Sylar gritted his teeth & sat back on his heels. He gave their clasped hands a shake. "Come on, Peter. Please." His voice was a hoarse whisper. "After all the times I try to kill you, this is how you decide to go out? Come on Peter!"

Sylar shoved both his hands through his hair & glared at the floor. Was Peter finally dead? Now that Sylar wanted the medic alive, he was dead at last? Impossible. Sylar's mind raced for a solution. His eyes darted around the sparse apartment. Medic. Kit. Syringe. Claire had given her blood to heal others. But Claire was the only true Regenerator. Would his blood work? Yes. Yes it would. Peter would be in so much trouble if it didn't work & in even worse trouble if it did. Sylar summoned the kit over, hoping a syringe was inside. He soon found one, filled a vial with his blood, then stabbed Peter with it. "Petrelli, you better wake up." He shot his own blood into Peter's bloodstream. After a long tense minute, Peter suddenly, finally, sat bolt right up with a loud gasp. "Finally!" Sylar snarled.

"F-F-F-ree-zzzzi—" Peter clasped his arms around himself. "Wha—ha—?" His teeth chattered so much he couldn't speak.

"You're cold?" Sylar derided. Peter glared. "You want to know what happened? I tell you what happened. We are officially the last survivors of Titanic. THAT'S what happened." Peter tried to gape but his shivering made him jerk back & forth. "Right where she split! What were you thinking?"

Peter sent his best 'Pissed Petrelli' look yet & then with great effort, set his teeth & dived for Sylar's hand. Siphoning off a power, he glowed orange for a moment, then took another power. "Figured nuclear would warm me up fast."

"I hope you're on Regen right now." Sylar's left eye actually twitched.

"You make it sound like birth control," Peter got up smoothly & walked away laughing at Sylar's 'what-just-happened' face. "So, Titanic eh?" He picked up the wood. After a moment he put it aside & came to touch Sylar's hand once more. "I took the one to read history then, but now I can heal."

"Good, 'cause otherwise I'd kill you."

Peter laughed half-heartedly. "No wonder people were screaming."

"Yeah," Sylar nodded. "We should never mention the fact we were there though."

"Why not?" Peter picked up the kit to put it away.

"Well, Phoenix hasn't shown up since."

"That was the idea," Peter said. "Wasn't it? Come up with a place no one would know?"

"I didn't mean the bloody Titanic!"

"I didn't think of that."

Sylar was about to retort with something or other, but realized Peter was telling the truth. "What did you think?"

"I thought we could go to sea in the middle of nowhere," Peter said. "But that's it."

"I thought perhaps somewhere back in time," Sylar muttered. "We were touching each other & so our plans shoved us on Titanic."

"Yeah," Peter grumbled. "We're both to blame for that one."

"Whatever," Sylar huffed. "Let's just not mention it again. So long as we've lost Phoenix, I can try finding Miss Hanson & find out what her problem is. Why did she steal my blood without my permission?"

"I'll help you," Peter said. "Besides, if Phoenix shows up again, I'll need help getting rid of him. Again. I wonder what he wants with me?"

"There is something different about him," Sylar said. "It kind of tugs on the Hunger but as it isn't an ability, my instincts aren't so interested."

"What do you think it is?"

"I'm not sure," Sylar said. "It's something rare. I've encountered it only two or three times before."

"Is it a disease?"

"No, just a difference. Definitely born with it though."

"Maybe we should try to catch him," Peter said. "I can have some tests done on him."

"Yeah, like that would happen."

"I'm just kidding," Peter defended. "I'd much rather keep away from him."

"Just allow me to do the time jumps," Sylar ordered. "Or else we'll be saying hi to Noah next."

"Shut up!" Peter huffed. "I thought you weren't religious?"

"I was raised Catholic like you," Sylar shrugged. "But I don't follow any religion. If there is a god out there, he most certainly disowned me."

"Or He's responsible for us meeting up," Peter pointed out.

"Right, that's my cue to leave," Sylar headed for the door. "Altar boy."

"Hey!" Peter punched Sylar on the shoulder. "Be nice."

Sylar grabbed Peter & they tussled out the door. Peter used the doorframe to his advantage & tipped Sylar outside into the hall & onto the floor. Peter nearly fell over as well. "Ouch!" Sylar rubbed his head as something hard & small bounced off it. He picked it up.

"Uh, um give me that!" Peter was suddenly horrified.

"Uh uh!" Sylar held the little box out of reach & opened it up. Inside, was a ring with a gold band & tiny colored stones set in the top in the shape of three light blue forget-me-nots. "Peter," He knelt on one knee staring at the thing, then held it up. "This is a wedding ring."

"Emma has a thing for forget-me-nots," Peter deflated with a long-suffering sigh. He was about to reach for it but heard the door at the end of the hall close. Both he & Sylar glanced down the corridor to see Arlin Daniels in the process of coming towards them. He stopped in mid-step, looking about as awkward & out of place as he most likely felt at that particular moment. "Give me that!" Peter snatched the ring-box out of Sylar's hand. "You idiot."

Sylar rubbed his head where the box had struck him as he stood up. With a nervous laugh he said, "Uh I wasn't proposing to him. Just so we're clear."

"Leave," Peter ordered. "You're making things worse. I'll meet you up North."

"Ok," Sylar gave up. "Don't...forget," he purred out the last word, while pointing at the box.

"Gabriel? With you," Peter said & put in a French accent. "'Twould be _Trés impossible."_

"Do have even an inkling of how much you screwed that phrase up?"

"Go away," Peter closed the door.

Sylar laughed & turned to Daniels still feeling like a third wheel. "What do you want with him?" Daniels was suddenly flattened against the wall by a bolt of unseen power.

"I'm just giving him a message from his mother," Daniels gasped for breath as the bolt pressed against his throat.

"Which is?" Sylar demanded. Daniels tried to fight off the pressure but only succeeded in feeling an increase. "I don't like to be kept waiting."

"Don't time-travel!" Daniels gasped out.

"Oh!" Sylar released the man who dropped to the floor in a crumpled heap. "Too late. We've been all over the time-zones. Is there anything else you want with him?"

Daniels glared up at Sylar, only to be flipped flat on his back & held down once more by a power bolt. Daniels looked up at Sylar & suddenly it hit him. Sylar was protecting Peter. "You're hurting me!" He wheezed. He noticed Peter come up behind Sylar, swift & silent as a ghost.

"Good," Sylar said. "I'm just getting started." He raised his hand.

"Gabriel!" In an instant, Peter clapped a hand Sylar's neck, downloaded a power, then flipped Sylar down the hall. Telekinetic. "Enough!"

"You think you can ho—"

A syringe plunged into Sylar's neck. It had dropped from above of its own accord. "Too easy." Peter scoffed, lowering his hand as Sylar lay passed out on the floor. He jerked his thumb over his shoulder. "You better leave before he wakes up."

"Your mother sent me here to talk to you about time-traveling," Daniels began.

"Too late," Peter said, then added in a low whisper. "We've been to hell & back." He leaned against the wall, unable to believe that both he & Sylar had stood right upon the first split of Titanic. He knew it would be a while before he could block out those screams, distant & faint as they were, if ever. "You should leave."

"Come with me," Daniels glanced at Sylar. "He'll hate you for what you just did."

Peter walked by, bent down & took back the Regen. "He'll get over it."

"Fine," Daniels made to leave. "Look whatever you're planning, just don't do it."

"Let me guess," Peter rolled his eyes. "She had a dream."

Daniels shrugged. "Maybe. She's trying to save you from something."

"Go back & tell her to dream up something about Phoenix."

"Phoenix?"

"You heard me," Peter glanced down as Sylar began to stir. "Get out of here. Now!"

Daniels nodded & ran for the stairs. While he didn't do quite what he had planned, he still happened to glean a lot of unexpected information. Angela would certainly hear about it.

Peter flopped to the floor, waiting for Sylar. "Welcome back," He said as Sylar got to his knees. Peter sat up against the wall, one leg bent up so he could cross his wrists over his knee. "Ouch!" Peter grabbed his forehead & felt a split there. Sylar had slashed faster than he could blink.

"That was for the needle," Sylar glared.

"You could have killed me!"

"Please," Sylar rolled his eyes. "I know you wouldn't be stupid enough to do that to me without taking Regen. You're still alive aren't you?" After a stare down, Sylar muttered, "Unfortunately."

"Be grateful I didn't keep you under," Peter retorted. "Why did you do it anyway?"

"I wasn't going to kill him," Sylar said.

"That isn't how it looked from my angle," Peter raised one brow.

"Ok technically, I was going to," Sylar grumbled. "But I didn't really plan to."

"I see," Peter waited, slowly grinding his teeth. Sylar was slipping already. Was he too late to find the boy's mother? Peter, save us! He shook his head slightly, trying to push the memory from his mind. He was trying, damn it!

"He was after you," Sylar shrugged. "I'm the only one allowed to kill you."

"Gee, thanks."

"So no more visits to doomsday ships trying to get away from me," Sylar teased, offering a hand.

"Whatever," Peter grabbed it & pulled himself up to his feet. "Now, let's deal with Miss Hanson." Peter zipped up his dark blue jacket he had been wearing & pulled out some gloves. "And please don't make us end up in the Dark Ages or something."

"Funny," Sylar put a hand on Peter's shoulder. "Maybe we ought to go to the time of the Crucifixion. I could put you up next to Him, if it actually happened." Grinning evilly, Sylar beamed them away before Peter had a chance to reply.

They soon tracked Raines Hanson to an inn near the clinic in Anchorage, Alaska. Peter stood out in the hall as Sylar went in. Sylar eventually had the girl pinned. By power alone, he shook her. "You wouldn't believe what I had to go through to get my hands on you!"


	19. Chapter 19

**(19) Peter's Secret**

**Angela/Daniels, NYC NY**

Angela was sitting at a table in her favorite restaurant, eating oysters when Arlin Daniels suddenly slid into the seat in front of her. Angela took a bit of her salad before asking, "Did you find Peter?"

"Yes," Daniels replied. "But we're too late. They've already time-traveled somewhere. They've just gotten back now."

"Did Peter or Sylar mention when they went?" Angela asked, not having to ask who the 'they' referred to. By now, it was unnatural to not see Sylar & Peter tagging after each other like lost pups. That didn't mean Angela liked it.

"No," said Daniels. "But I'm not sure you should be so direct in getting them separated any more. Sylar protects Peter."

"He can't protect Peter from what's coming," Angela said. "What happened? Exactly?"

"Well, Sylar gave Peter a wedding ring—"

The wine glass in Angela's hand crashed to the floor. Daniels mentally kicked himself for blurting that one out. He should have explained it better. After a waitress came over to pick it up & leave, Angela gasped, "I didn't dream anything like that!"

"Uh no no," Daniels shook his head. "He wasn't proposing! Peter mentioned something about Emma."

Angela took a moment to recover. "I know about Emma. Nice girl. But Peter wanting to marry? It's about time that boy grew up."

"It happens to everyone eventually," Daniels said before going on to explain the rest.

"Phoenix?" Angela mused. "I never heard of anyone with that name." Daniels sat back, crossing his arms. If the almighty Angela Petrelli didn't know, it meant they were dealing with a new case entirely. Of course, that was assuming she was telling the truth. "Oh believe me, I'm telling the truth," Angela insisted. "There is no one by the name of Phoenix in the old Primatech files or the Pinehearst or the Rubocryn."

"Perhaps Noah Bennet might know."

"Noah Bennet is dead."

"Yes but where are his files?" Daniels pressed. "When he went off on his own for a bit. He had a lot of information. He had a new partner. That woman. What was her name?"

"Do you mean Lauren?" Angela asked. "Yes that's a good idea. I'll give her a call. I should ask Peter out for lunch too. Alone. Then he can tell me all about his plans for Emma."

"You want to find out when he went, in other words," Daniels wasn't fooled.

"That too," Angela dismissed the notion with one hand. "That boy's in real need of some mother & son time whether he knows it or not."

"Why don't you work on that & I'll call Lauren?"

"Sounds like a plan," Angela stood up to leave. "I also need those papers Mr. Jenkins took from Dr. Suresh."

"Yes I'm looking for them."

"Good," Angela put on her coat. "Maybe we'll find our Firebird along with them." As she walked out, Daniels saw Angela pull out her phone & call someone.

**Sylar/Peter/Raines, Anchorage Alaska**

"Let me go!"

"Oh no no no," Sylar retorted. "One simply does not steal another's blood & then take off without having a sinister plan involved. Who are you working for?"

"What?"

"Come on, I don't have all day!" Sylar yanked her forward to the bed & forced her to sit down on the edge. "Now who is it? Angela? Bennet? He's dead you know. Phoenix?"

"I don't know who any of those are."

"Wow, ok, not lying," Sylar inwardly groaned. This will be harder then he thought. Suddenly, he had an idea. "Oh I get it. You're working for Claire. Aren't you?" Sylar snickered. "Oh that girl."

"Who's Claire?"

Sylar deflated like a balloon. "You know exactly who Claire is."

"No."

Sylar stared. Another truth. "Well then, who is it?" With a blast of power, Raines felt herself flat on her back.

"NO ONE!" She yelped. "I'm not working for anyone!"

"Where's Gretchen?" Sylar suddenly asked.

"I don't know who that is," Raines said. Her phone started ringing. Sylar summoned it to his hand & threw it aside. "Gabriel! Please. Let me answer that."

"Why?"

"Please it's important!"

Not a lie but he didn't care. Sylar yanked her to the floor & landed on top of her. "What is it? Who's on that phone & why did you steal my blood?"

"It might be about your blood."

Sylar actually snarled before summoning the phone to his hand. It had stopped ringing by now but there was a voice mail. After listening to it, he tossed the phone aside & grabbed Raines around the throat. "It said positive match."

Raines went slack under him. "It's you. It's really you."

"What are you talking about?" Sylar demanded. He put one hand on her face to press her into the carpet. His other hand was raise & he made a small cut on the side of her forehead which healed almost as fast as he slashed. Still, it caused her some discomfort.

"Gabriel!" Raines burst into tears. "You know me! You know who I am! Look at me!"

"Yes yes, the waitress in Cordova," Sylar grumbled.

"Gabriel," Peter stepped into the room. "Easy."

Sylar glared at him. "She can't die." He shifted his glare down to Raines. "But you can feel pain. Now unless you start making sense, I'll make you suffer."

"Gabriel, can't you just read her?" Peter asked. "You're touching her after all."

Sylar stared down at his fingers still on her throat. With a jolt, he realised that he could not read her. At all. "No. That power isn't working." He attempted to flick some blonde curls off Raines' forehead using power alone. "That worked though." After a quick mental check he added, "They all work. Except that one."

"Touch this," Peter held out his ring box & opened it up.

Sylar held Raines firmly beneath him by power alone as he touched the ring. "You bought it in Cork. I don't need power to know why."

"Why won't it work on her?"

Sylar shrugged. "Hard way it is. Start talking, 'Nyota,' or you'll regret it."

Raines blinked tears from her eyes. "Gabriel...you know me. You know my face. You've seen me before. A long time ago!"

Sylar made as if to hurt her throat but refrained himself. She wasn't lying. He had no reason to hurt her. Yet. "Know you? How?"

"Oh God!" Raines sobbed. "Can't be true. Stories about you. Can't be. Why don't you remember?"

"Girl you don't know half the stories about me!"

"I know you were sold as a boy," Raines began, sniffling. "If you're truly my Gabriel, I know all about you. I know you had a little red car. Your favorite toy. I gave it to you. I know you're scared of horses & I know why. I know you like ice cream & peach pie. I know you can make everything ok, at least for me. I know you fix watches." After a short moment, she burst into a fresh wave of tears. "A-A-And I know you kill! Just like him. I looked Sylar up a while ago."

"What, are you stalking me?"

"Well you kind of deserve it—AHH!" Peter was flung back into a wall. "Shutting up," He groaned.

"I expect something like that from Claire, not you!" Sylar hissed.

"Kirby Plaza."

"I know about that to," Raines said. "What I don't know is how you both came to be here? Weren't you trying to kill each other back then?"

"Didn't take," Sylar & Peter chimed at the same time. They both laughed at the irony.

Sylar slowly but surely got off Raines to let her up. He sat against the wall next to Peter. A long silence past. Peter suddenly said, "Your weakness is horses? I should have ridden to Kirby Plaza."

Sylar burst out laughing. "I would have killed to see that. Seriously."

"GABRIEL!" Peter & Raines exclaimed for different reasons. Peter was slightly annoyed whereas Raines was horrified.

"Back then," Sylar added hurriedly. "I'd have killed back then." Peter just shook his head. Sylar stared at Raines. "I don't know where you got your information from. Most of it is true. I don't remember where I got that little red car but I actually still have it in my lake cabin. As for horses though, you're wrong there. I've never even been around one. In fact, I don't remember seeing a horse in real life. Just on TV."

"You're kidding," Peter stared at him. "Yet here I thought I was a city boy."

"Have you ever seen a horse up close in real life?"

"Nathan & I had riding lessons growing up," Peter said.

"Whatever," Sylar huffed.

"You do have Nathan's memories," Peter added. "You should know about it."

"Yeah, they're kind of faded away ever since I finally broke free of Parkman's power," Sylar said. "The most I remember of him now is what I picked up through reading things around his place. Mostly politics. Piloting. But the other memories that came from when I was tricked into actually being him are mostly gone. Side effect of escaping Parkman I guess."

"You seem to know if someone's lying or not," Raines suddenly spoke again.

"It's one of my abilities."

"Am I lying when I say you're scared of horses?" After a moment, she added. "Am I lying when I say I'm the one who gave you that car?"

"No," Sylar finally admitted. "Who are you?"

"I don't understand," Raines stood up & brushed herself off. "You were old enough when we separated to have at least some fragmented memory of me."

"Are we...childhood sweethearts?"

"No," Raines said. "I have never dated anyone named Gabriel."

"Then how do you know things about me I apparently don't even know myself?" Sylar demanded, standing up as well. "Why can't I read you when I touch you?"

"Another ability of yours?" Raines asked. After Sylar nodded, she went on. "I don't know why one of your powers won't work on me. But if I were to guess, maybe it's because you don't remember me. Have you used that reading power on the car?"

"I..." Sylar thought for a long time. "You know, it never did tell me where it came from. I had always assumed my true mother had given it to me."

"Well she gave me money to buy it for you," Raines said. "So...close. I don't know why you can't remember anything though."

"Gabriel, maybe someone had you wiped," Peter said. "Focus on your mind. We Regenerators can heal wiped memories."

"I'll try," said Sylar. "Call Rene & ask him about it in the meantime. I'd like to find out why."

Peter nodded & moved to the door. "You stay put," he said to Raines. "We're not done with you yet." At that, he stepped out into the hall, phone in hand. Raines sat down on the bed, watching Sylar.

Sylar stood head bowed to chest, concentrating. Raines saw his long eyelashes flutter a little under effort as he kept his eyes closed. Sylar suddenly opened them & looked down one arm. A volt of electricity coiled up & down his left arm. "I can't. I'm focusing so much on the healing that I'm forcing other powers around. Peter?" He headed for the hall. Stepping out, he heard Peter's voice coming from the left & around the bend. Sylar rolled his eyes.

In a flash, Raines felt herself pinned to the bed once more. The curtains ripped off their poles & twisted into ropes of their own accord. She was suddenly held fast to the bed. "I'll be right back," Sylar closed the door. He trotted down the hall to catch up to Peter, but stopped as he rounded the bend.

Peter was standing not far ahead, back toward Sylar, trying very hard to keep his voice even & low. "I can't mother!" A click of a phone snapping shut & then in a low whisper to himself, Peter muttered, "Because, Gabriel will lose his son if I don't figure this out." Peter turned around. "Gabriel! You sca...Gabriel."


	20. Chapter 20

**(20) The Visitor**

**Claire/Sandra Costa Verde**

"Claire? I'm home!"

"Hi mom. You're just on time," Claire's voice sounded from the kitchen.

"Oh!" Sandra surveyed the pots. "You cooked."

"Chicken spaghetti alfredo & a salad," Claire opened up the oven. "Here's the garlic bread."

"What's the occasion?"

"Doug called," Claire said. "He told me Miss or rather, Mrs. Lovegood is pregnant so," she pointed at Mr. Muggles dish on the side of the counter. "I got something special for him."

Sandra smiled. "I'm glad to see that you & Doug are getting along at last."

Claire was suddenly aghast & put a hand over her heart. "This has nothing to do with Doug! But I've always liked Mr. Muggles. It's for him! Since Mr. Muggles is our dog, we're the ones who are celebrating."

"Well," Sandra patted Mr. Muggles on the head. He barked. "Definitely did a good job, didn't you?"

"Mom don't give out too much information," Claire said. "Mr. Muggles is going to be a father. That's all I need to know."

"I wasn't going to say anything more," Sandra defended.

"Good," Claire set down the dog's dish filled with choice meats & a strip of tuna on top. "I'd lose my appetite. Why don't you sit down? I'm just going to toss this apron in the laundry."

"Alright dear," Sandra patted Mr. Muggles one last time before heading for the table. Mr. Muggles growled & shoved his nose into his food. "I wasn't going to take it away."

Claire headed upstairs to the end of the hall. Next to the upper washroom was the laundry room. She opened the door & tossed in the apron. Next moment she felt as if something hit her head. Claire fell backwards onto the floor. With a groan, she pushed herself up on her hands. Glancing down the hall, she just barely caught sight of someone entering her room. "Hey. Mom?"

"Yes?" Sandra called. Her voice came from downstairs.

"Nothing, I just tripped," Claire shoved herself up & grabbed a wooden coat hanger from the bar along one side of the laundry room. Holding the hanger like a bat, she headed for her bedroom & opened the door. After checking around, she found no one. Claire checked in her closet & under her bed. Lastly, she went to her open window that she had left open earlier & closed it. The only thing she saw outside was some guy walking along the street, but she couldn't see anything suspicious. Claire finally closed & locked the window. "I was sure I saw someone." She sighed & headed back downstairs.

It was just the two of them & Mr. Muggles. Sandra & Claire caught up on their day. Just as their meal finished, Lyle called from school to say hello. After that, Sandra sat Claire down in the living room. Sitting beside her on the couch, Sandra began, "So, I've been meaning to ask you, are you going back to that college yet?"

Claire groaned. "Every time I try school, something happens. Since I've gone public with my ability, it's different now. People at school are either afraid of it or want to study me in the science lab. Now Gretchen's missing as well. The search has been called off a while ago. Even if she is found, I know what it'll be."

"Oh don't think like that honey," Sandra said. "People have disappeared for years & are then found alive & well somewhere else. Isn't there anyone still looking for her?"

"Not anymore," Claire said. "I've gone around a few times myself but even I'm at a loss."

"Give me everything you have so far," Sandra said. "I can get copies of the police reports as well. We'll start again & again until we find her."

"Really?" Claire smiled. "I would like to."

"We will," Sandra assured. "In the meantime, why don't we try correspondence? You can finish your school at home through online courses."

Claire stared at her mom. "Why didn't I think of that ages ago? Mom, that's brilliant!"

"Alright, we'll get you set on that tomorrow," Sandra said. "You have a lot of catching up to do, young lady." Claire groaned, knowing her mother was right.

* * *

**Jessica/Tracy Savannah GA**

"You really think Claire can figure out an anti-formula to take Sylar down?" Tracy asked as she sprayed whipping cream into two steaming mugs. She handed one to Jessica & the pair of them went into the living room to sit down.

"Let's hope," Jessica said after taking a sip of her hot chocolate. "If there's one thing I know for sure, that cheerleader would do anything to get rid of Sylar. I've never met him, but from what I've heard, he doesn't sound like a nice person at all."

"No he isn't," Tracy handed over a few files. "That isn't even half of what he's accomplished."

Jessica flipped through papers full of pictures. Gruesome murders. Skulls ripped open. Brains pulled out & left on the floor or even gone entirely. "Brutal!"

"He's not the only one," Tracy said. "There are others who simply kill for the fun of it. But I think Sylar's one of the worst, given what he can do."

Jessica suddenly dropped all the papers into her lap & looked up, her eyes slightly swirling. "There's someone here."

Tracy gaped at her. "Of course there is. I have about thirty or so young people with abilities here."

Jessica stood up focusing like a cat, through the wall into the large parlour room. "There's definitely someone here." She placed her mug on the table & took off without another word.

Tracy got up to follow her. "You remind me of Jesus. 'Who touched me?' He asks."

"He was talking about one in particular," Jessica stopped. "The invader is gone now. Whoever it was just...vanished."

"Someone new?"

Jessica nodded. "I didn't feel threatened but it's still odd that someone came in here unannounced, then just left again equally unannounced." She looked sideways as she heard a splash.

Tracy had shifted to her river form & flowed under the crack in the door. Like a liquid snake, the river moved over the carpet, shifting one way than another, searching. Tracy reappeared at the opposite wall. She was naked since her clothes slipped off the water. Jessica snatched a blanket off a chair & tossed it over. Tracy caught it as she said, "There was someone in this room. I could feel the imprints on the carpet where they walked. Still warm & fresh." Glancing around, her eyes landed on a corner table for magazines. There was a yellow envelope on top that was opened. Tracy pulled out what was inside. "What's this? Uh Jessy? Better come over here."

Jessica took the papers that had been in the envelope & looked them over. "I just gave these to Claire & she's all the way in California. How'd they get here?"

"Copies maybe?" Tracy suggested.

Jessica scanned over the papers again. "Nope these are the same ones." She pulled off a ball of bright soft lint. "Mr. Muggles's fur."

* * *

**Micah Sanders, Savannah GA**

A blur whizzed past Micah who was lying back on a lawn chair, laptop on a portable-table over his chest. Without looking up Micah said, "Hi Edgar."

Edgar had one blade out in one hand, feeling its edge with the other. He began sharpening it. "Amanda's doing so much better here than at the carnival. Not as many bad influences around her."

"Better keep her hidden for a while," Micah finally looked at the blades-man. "Angela Petrelli has her dogs out looking for you & Amanda."

"Oh? Who is it?"

"If I tell you, there will be more blood shed," Micah's eyes pointedly glared at the blade.

"There'll be blood shed if you don't."

"Fine," Micah said. "I would rather die than be responsible for creating another Sylar. I'm not Noah Bennet, nor will I ever sink so low to his level."

Edgar's jaw twitched. "I'm just keeping Amanda safe."

"If you want to do that then I suggest confiscating her phone for a while."

"Why?"

"Her & a new boyfriend are currently talking about maybe having sex for the first time."

Micah smiled oh-so-sweetly. Edgar blinked. Edgar suddenly stood straight. "AMANDA YOU'RE GROUNDED!" At that, he zipped away to his daughter, his blade falling with a clatter to the cobble-stone covered patio. Micah sighed & swung the laptop desk to one side (it was attached to an arm of the chair). He got up.

"MICAH I HATE YOU!" Amanda's voice suddenly shrieked out the open window. "We're only talking! What's the harm in that? OHHH I HATE YOUR POWER!" A fireball descended from the window. Micah coolly stepped aside, looked up at her & shrugged. Cheeky bastard! Amanda glared & continued to rant at him until Edgar had suddenly slammed the window. But their shouts at each other could still be heard. ("But Dad! It was just talk—"/ "I DON'T CARE! That's how it starts! Now give it over."/ "NO!"/ "You're Ipad's MY Ipad until you listen up!") Micah snickered to himself & bent down to pick up the blade. It was nowhere in sight.

"You know," a man's voice sounded behind him. Micah whirled around. "You really shouldn't leave things like this lying around where there's children." He handed the blade over, hilt first.

Micah took it. "You seem familiar."

"I spilt coffee all over you the other day."

"Oh yeah," Micah laughed. He & the man suddenly glanced to the second floor window. There had been a crash of glass & then calm peaceful silence. "Huh, kids."

"You can't be much older."

"A few years older," Micah said. "But even when I was little, I wasn't that bad."

"You're not a teenage girl."

"There's a difference?"

"Oh yeah!" the man said. "It's instinct. They're born with a set number of eggs after all."

"Right ok," Micah grimaced. "Who are you?"

"Phoenix."

"What do you want?" Micah sat on the edge of the lawn chair. He put a hand behind him to pull his laptop over.

"Search for me all you want," Phoenix said. "I'm from thirty years in the future so, good luck."

Micah lowered his hand back to his lap. "What are you doing all the way back here?"

"I'm trying to get Peter to help me with something in the future. I can't use my Peter for personal reasons," Phoenix began. "However, when I time-travel, it's a bit different from Hiro's. I go where I'm needed. I can't really plan where I end up."

"So if you wanted to visit Ancient Egypt, you can't?"

"Nope," Phoenix said. "Not without Hiro's help. Or Sylar's. Funny that. I borrowed time-travel off someone a while ago but I react a little differently to abilities. It's why I call my ability Morph."

"So you're like Sylar & Peter."

"No," Phoenix said. "They can have multiple abilities at the same time & keep any they acquire. Of course, after Peter gets fixed I mean. I have only three powers. Two are permanent & then there's the Morph."

"So you want me to look for Peter then," Micah again reached for his laptop.

"No, I'll get him later," Phoenix said. "I finally figured out why I keep coming back to this time zone. There's a few things I have to set up to keep the timeline flowing properly but everyone here is running around like chickens with their heads cut off. I'm lucky I ever got born 'cause my family in this day & age? Pathetic!" His cheeks actually flushed with embarrassment. "But I've set them on the right path. As for you, how's your Rebel Team holding up?"

"We're alright," Micah said.

"I heard someone got married."

"Yeah."

"So that'll weaken your force for a bit," Phoenix mused. "Are you hiring others?"

"You want to be a part of Rebel?"

"Already am from when I come from."

"Whoa! WHOA! Ok...whoa!" Micah gasped. "No way!"

"Yes way," Phoenix smiled at Micah's shock. "You're going to hire me when I'm 25. In fact, I'm here on Rebel mission right now."

"My Rebel Team is still going thirty years from now?" Micah all but squeaked.

"Yeah but only if you do a certain thing now," Phoenix said. "It's crucial, otherwise Rebel will be dismantled & useless within the year. Take your pick. You are technically my boss."

"Uh let me think!" Micah rubbed his temples for a moment. "Ok, what do I have to do?"

"Replace Peter's agents with your own," Phoenix said.

"What?"

"Peter is trying to keep Sylar sane," Phoenix said. "He has hidden agents set up all over the place, watching Sylar. But there's a problem. Some of them also work for Angela Petrelli. At this point in time, we're better off without her. Besides, Rebel does a much better job. You've stolen from that Company twice now. First when Nathan Petrelli rounded everyone up & now Amanda."

"You want the Rebels to guard... ... ...SYLAR?!" Micah stared at Phoenix.

"And Peter."

"And Peter?" Micah echoed. "Are you insane?"

"Considering the lineage that bred me," Phoenix said. "No, luckily enough."

"What?"

Phoenix shrugged. "If you do this, have Rebel Team answer only to you & Peter. After about a year, you can answer to Sylar as well. Not before. He's busy right now." He paused & then with a groan he added, "At least he better be."

"You gave Sylar something to do?"

"I set the ground for it," Phoenix said. "He had better walk it."

"Just how do you expect me to undo anything Peter does?"

"Ask him," Phoenix blatantly replied.

"If he refuses?"

"Rebel's finished within the year," Phoenix said. "But he won't. He'll actually insist on having both you & those government agents but do not accept. Your team is far more trustworthy."

"Buttering me up with fancy words won't bribe me," Micah said. "You could be just saying stuff to get me to do something you want."

"I am saying stuff to make you do what I want," Phoenix replied. "But unlike a bribe, I mean what I say, particularly about the trust issue. You'll understand once Sylar is part of the picture. But no one, I repeat, NO ONE else. Just you & Peter & then soon enough Sylar. That is extremely important for the next thirty years. You'll understand when you allow Sylar on your side."

After a long moment of silence Micah finally said, "I'll talk to Peter."

"Thank you," Phoenix was visibly relieved.

"I said talk," Micah reiterated. "I'm not promising anything."

"You just did," Phoenix said. "Talking to Peter is enough."

"We'll see," was all Micah said.

Phoenix bowed slightly & turned to leave. "Oh & in a couple weeks, hire Amanda," he suddenly added. "She needs a distraction to keep out of trouble. Also remind Peter that I still need him."


	21. Chapter 21

**(21) Bare Truth**

**Peter/Sylar Anchorage Alaska**

"My...son?" Sylar stated after he & Peter had shared a long hard gaze. "Peter."

"You were not supposed to hear that," Peter made as if to push past. "Where's Raines?"

Sylar flung the medic back with a bolt of power. "Peter. I can't have children."

"Just leave it alone."

"No Peter!" Sylar advanced on him. "I can't spread this. This power. My first. The Hunger is genetic. I got it from my father."

"Gabriel," Peter tried again.

"Peter I can't allow this curse to continue!"

"You're the best father I've ever seen ok?" Peter finally blurted out. "That boy will not grow up into a monster & you know why? Because he has you for a father. Gabriel, you have no idea what you're capable of. Not yet." Sylar pressed Peter down to the floor. "I'm trying to save your family ok? I can't do that if you don't let me up. Trust me. Please! That boy is your salvation. It's how you stay sane."

Sylar hesitated, then released Peter. "This boy...you said you're trying to save a kid. Claire kills tha...oh my God, Peter! Does Claire hate me so much she would murder a child even if he is mine?"

"NO!" Peter jumped to his feet. "Claire didn't murder him. She was shooting at someone else. There was a huge fight & he got caught in the crossfire. It was an accident. I know exactly when how & why it happens so don't worry, I'll stop it this time around."

"This time ar...Peter what have you done to me?" Sylar demanded. "The hidden agents I can handle. You're one of my guardians. You're supposed to protect me & others from myself! What is wrong with you?"

"I am! This is the only way!" Peter shot back. "Gabriel, that boy becomes your life. Your focus. You stopped killing. He keeps you that way. You have the life you've been searching for. Do you know what you said to me when the boy got killed? 'Peter save us!' Those were your last words before I was gone & eventually back into my own time."

"Back into your own time?" Sylar echoed under breath. "You act as if it's already happened. You met my son before me. What did you do?"

"Remember when mom tricked us into think we're brothers?" Peter said. "Who showed up around that time & began messing with time?"

"Your scarred self."

"Exactly," Peter said. "He brought me to the future. Showed me what to change. And then, showed me what to save. Claire killed him but I escaped."

"You get all your powers back when you get your scar," Sylar cut in. "How can you be killed?"

"Same way any Regenerator would be killed," Peter groused. "You know how it is. Isn't that why you shifted your spot?"

"Yes, but I was referring to the strength of powers," Sylar said. "When you get your scar, you're stronger than even me. I didn't think it was possible to take you out then. Is that why the scarred one hasn't shown up for a while?"

"I think so. Claire's the one who does it," Peter muttered.

"No wonder you're trying to keep friendly with her."

"By saving your son I'm saving myself to," Peter said.

Sylar stood silent, his mind racing. He was going to have a son? No, he couldn't. He would not condemn a child to hell. If there was one thing that stopped Sylar, it was children. "Peter...no. No!" Sylar turned & marched briskly down the hall.

"Gabriel, wait!"

Sylar turned back. "No, I need a moment right now." He continued on his way.

Peter allowed Sylar to actually leave the building before running after him. A light snow was falling from a cold grey sky as he dashed out & nearly slipped on the hard packed snow. "Gabriel! I didn't do it on purpose. You weren't supposed to know until I sorted a few things out."

Sylar stopped walking. "Ever since I was in my early twenties, I've wanted children. But I never got around to it. Never found a girl. Not enough money anyway at the time. Then this," he tapped his temple, indicating his ability. "Showed up & with it came all the others eventually."

"Maybe now that it's settled into place, it's time for you to settle," Peter offered.

Sylar punched the parked car next to him so hard, he dented it. "I am a monster! Everyone knows that. I don't deny it."

"You were," Peter tried. "That was a long time ago."

"Those years were a fantasy for us only!" Sylar countered. "To everyone else, it's barely been a few months since my last rampage. Not including dear old dad of course."

"I know two people," Peter began. "They share one body. One is Sylar who has been put down a long time ago. One is Gabriel Gray & he was dragged along for a very long hard ride. You found your old self again."

"Peter I murdered your brother!" Sylar stomped his foot.

"No, Sylar did. Gabriel never did anything to me," Peter insisted. "I never even met Gabriel until Matt introduced us."

Sylar leaned against the wall & slide down to the ground. "Peter, you sweet innocent naïve stupid boy. You have an annoying heart of gold. Are you incapable of seeing things for what they actually are?"

"Not as incapable as you!" Peter retorted. "I've been to the future. I've seen you with that child. That man was Gabriel, not Sylar. Sylar was a watch you'll make me fix someday soon. Nothing more. Gabriel!" Peter knelt down in front of Sylar & grabbed both his hands. "You need that boy as much as he needs you. Now please tell me, when's the last time you had sex & with who & please say it was recent & with a woman!"

"You're kidding me!"

"Doctor's orders, Gray!"

"Excuse me?"

"Answer the questions!"

"I haven't had sex in over twelve years," Sylar grumbled. "All because a certain medic didn't want to help out when we were stuck alone together. Satisfied, Petrelli?"

"Oh orgasmically!" Peter groused. Sylar stared in shock before scoffing. Peter ignored him. "I was stuck with Sylar most of those years," he defended. "I'd rather have died, yes pun intended."

"Oh shut up!" Sylar ordered.

"Besides, what if Matt Parkman was a peeping tom?"

Sylar glared, suddenly hating Peter's crooked smile. It used to be cute. Grr. "Why do you need such pertinent information anyway?"

"Because!" Peter shouted, throwing his hands up in defeat. In a lower voice he added, "I'm a bloody idiot."

"No surprise there."

Peter ignored the insult. "I didn't get around to finding out who his mother is."

Sylar gaped at him for a moment. "You're trying to play match-maker with me!" He leapt to his feet. Peter stepped back three paces but was yanked forward five or six by a power bolt. He stood nose to nose with Sylar, who said, "What in the hell am I going to do with you? Seriously!" He shoved Peter aside, stuffed his hands into his pockets & marched headfirst into the oncoming snowstorm.

Peter trotted up to his side & grabbed Sylar's hand. He teleported them both back to his New York apartment. Sylar huffed & headed for the door. "Gabriel..."

"Why didn't you tell me this sooner?" Sylar paused at the door, one hand on the knob.

"Because I don't know who the mother is," Peter said. "I didn't want to get your hopes up until I found her. Turns out you don't care."

With a soft click, Sylar pulled the door partially open. "On the contrary. Finding out I may have a son cuts me to the core. A son! That is one of my dreams but unlike you, I know I shouldn't. It's because I do care that I don't think I should go through with it. It's bad enough you & I are stuck with the Hunger. What if he gets it?"

"Then unlike either of us," Peter said quietly. "He at least, will have not one but two people training him from day one to control it."

Sylar sighed & shook his head. After a moment, he opened the door all the way & left. Peter fell onto the couch & buried his face in both hands. Where had everything gone so wrong so fast? After several long silent minutes, he got up & headed into the kitchen. In the cupboard, all he found was a solitary tin can of soup. He warmed it up & was just sitting down on the couch with a bowl of it in hand when Sylar re-entered unannounced. Peter set the bowl down on the coffee table.

"We forgot Nyota," Sylar explained. "I tied her to the bed & never returned." Peter groaned & facepalmed. "Well don't look at me!" Sylar defended. "You're the one who brought my world crashing around me. Again. As usual."

Peter stood up. "Let's just get the girl."

"Yes, why don't we? Maybe she's this dream mother of yours."

"Drop dead!" Peter hissed through gritted teeth as they beamed back to Alaska.

**Raines 'Nyota' Hanson**

"Help. HELP!" Raines called out, hearing footsteps. The door finally opened. With relief, she saw that it wasn't Sylar or his friend, but one of the staff from the hotel. "Untie me please. Hurry!"

"What happened to you?" The woman gasped & she rushed over & began tugging at the knots.

"Got into a little fight with someone," Raines said. "He didn't hurt me but he just upped & left me like this."

"Whoever it was sure knows how to tie knots," the woman complained. "I can't undo these. I'll go get a knife."

"Hurry before he comes back," Raines said. The woman disappeared & for a few tense minutes, Raines was alone. Her rescuer soon returned.

"Let's try this again," the woman began cutting at the strips. "I'm Merida. How you doing?"

"Better now," Raines shook one hand as her wrist was released. "Raines, but everyone calls me Nyota."

"Ah Star Trek!"

"Yes!"

"I've only ever seen that new movie," Merida said, cutting through the last strap. "And Enterprise."

"That's my favorite one," Raines said, sitting up. "But you should honestly watch them all."

"I will, don't worry," Merida said, tossing the slashed curtains to one side. "But enough of that. Who did this to you?"

"Sylar."

Merida's face went white. "Sylar is here? I've heard of him. Come on! Let's get out of here." She grabbed Raines' hand & the pair of them fled.

When they stepped outside, Raines ran for the clinic. Glancing back, she saw Merida sprinting down the road towards the airport. "You weren't kidding when you said we should get out of here." Raines made her way to the clinic & entered. She had important business with Sylar & unlike Merida it seemed, Raines couldn't die, so it mattered not if & when she faced Sylar again. She waited until she got the official envelope with the results of the blood test & then left for her own plane back to Cordova. After a short flight, Raines finally stepped into her own restaurant one more.

"NYOTA!" Savona jumped on her so hard, they crashed into the wall. "Where have you been? You don't take off on my like that! You're fired."

"I own the place, Savy!" Raines grumbled crossly.

"OOO not in a good mood?"

"Nah, sorry. Just tired," Raines flung herself down onto a padded bench by the window & waited for Savona to join her after she had poured out two mugs of coffee.

"So," Savona insisted the moment she sat down. "What did you do?"

"Remember that guy that was sitting here late when you went to that party?"

"Yeah," Savona nodded. "How could I forget? He was so hot I'm sure I ovulated!"

Raines rolled her eyes. Ignoring the fact she was friends with the world's biggest slut, she said. "His name was Gabriel."

"Oh," Savona was suddenly, finally, serious. "So, you went off to do more blood tests." They both drank half their coffee before the conversation continued. Savona flicked back her hair before insisting, "So...is he that Gabriel?"

Raines put her mug on the table. "I might go to New York."

"He IS that Gabriel!" Savona exclaimed. "Funny, I imagined you'd be happier than this."

"Something's wrong Savy," Raines sighed. "Very wrong."

"What is it?" Savona demanded. "Nyota, what's going on?"

Raines took a long time in answering. "Savona, have you ever heard of Sylar?"

Savona dropped her mug & stood up. Raines stared at her. So she did know the name. Savona backed away. "Where did you get that name?"

"You know Sylar?" Raines asked. "Tell me about him!"

"Remember I told you about Kieran?" Savona asked. Raines nodded. Kieran had been the love of Savona's life. But ever since that day, Savona never fell for anyone again. It had happened before she hired Savona. It was the reason Savona had left her home in Nebraska to go to Alaska; to get as far away as possible. "Sylar killed him. To this day I don't know why!" She disappeared for a moment & came back with a broom. As she swept up the mess, Savona added. "What does this have to do with Gabriel?"

Raines bowed her head. "Everything."


End file.
